


Speed and Heat

by AMLark



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Kylo Ren, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Racing, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Eventual Smut, F/M, F1 - Freeform, Formula 1, Formula One, Mildly Dubious Consent, Omega Rey, Omega Verse, POV Rey (Star Wars), Slow Burn, Slow Burn Rey/Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-05-19 01:06:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 42,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14863749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMLark/pseuds/AMLark
Summary: His eyes bore into mine, in the dark light they seem black. He moves around, trying to get closer to me, but for ever step he takes forward, I take one back.We orbit the car like satellites, and I know somewhere deep in my mind that my traitorous body does this on purpose. With each step I take his urge to give chase grows stronger, his need greater.“You’re not allowed to be in the pits” he practically growls. It should scare me, but doesn’t “No Omegas.  Pit crew members can only present beta”A smile turns my lips, I’ve never felt this, this desire to torment. My heart jumps at the anger in his words, as if some part of me that lay long dormant has woken up. “But there is no rule against us driving”Rey is a Pit Leader for the dwindling Resistance Racing company. Will she be able to get behind the wheel and take back the Galaxy Circuit cup from the sinister First Order corporation and their driver, Kylo Ren?Welcome to my A/O/B fic! Purely fun, and unlike some I prefer this trope with a heavy dose of angst ;)





	1. Losers

I can’t see through the crowds, but I can tell by the cheering masses ensconced in black that we lost. Again. 

I kick a spare hubcap in anger, the red phoenix logo of Resistance Racing winking at me in the evening sunlight. This was supposed to be our race, we had done everything right, Poe was at the top of the field, the pit stops were fast and efficient, and still we had lost to that asshole Kylo Ren. 

There were only 2 more races before the Canto Bight Grand Prix, and the Resistance needed to get into shape badly. If they didn’t manage to win at least one race they would be banned from the tour, and the First Orders fleet of race teams would for all intensive purposes have overtaken the Galaxy Circuit of races. They wouldn’t qualify for next year, hell the entire company might fold. 

Kylo Ren’s image is projected on a giant screen above the pit, the crews who are part of the First Order’s fleet of racers cheer and smile, although not cheering mess that we would be if our driver had won. 

The guys an asshole, what did I expect? 

Somehow, even through the image projected of him on the screen he manages to drip with Alpha superiority. He seems angry, despite his victory. He doesn’t remove his helmet. They hand him a bottle of champagne and instead of spraying it over the crowd of what must be nearly in heat Omegas he smashes it against the ground, glass flying everywhere. 

“Rey!” Poe’s voice cuts through my sulking anger, and I turn my back on the supersized image of Kylo Ren. “Leia wants to speak to you, she is on the line” 

I pull my headset back on, dialing the frequency to the one we keep open for our General Manager. Leia is a good leader, and she lets us make our own mistakes, but things are looking desperate now, more than they were earlier in the season. 

“Hey Rey, how is Poe doing?” She always asks about their flagship driver, the only Alpha we keep on the crew first. It doesn’t usually bother me but today it does. Why do all Omegas, even aging ones seem to put Alphas first? 

“He is fine, a little dejected after the damage BB8 sustained,” I say, watching Poe examine wobbling wheel on BB8 as one of their crew slowly drives the race car into the pit. “We need to at least place in a race Leia, the only way we have a chance at the cup is to up our points before the Grand Prix.”

“The Grand Prix might be our only hope at this point” she says in response. “Its not just about racing anymore, the racing council wants excitement, and the rivalry between Resistance Racing and the First Orders teams is waning. You know our only Alpha is Poe, and thats what people want to see, more hormone addled Alphas fighting for dominance”

I have never understood the fascination with Alphas, why they are always the most popular players on sports teams or end up as presidents and pop singers and race car drivers. 

Ok, I understand how they end up being race car drivers, it iss the one thing where thinking with your dick over your brain might actually get you somewhere. No sane person would strap themselves into the death machines that are Formula 1 cars and race around city streets if they were capable of thinking logically. 

“Maybe we should think about adding another driver Leia” I rub the spot between my shoulder blades as she talks, I must’ve been tense watching the race, because it aches with an acute soreness. I take a breath on the phone, preparing for her response to what feels like the 100th time I’ve asked about adding another driver. I know she is sad that her brother retired from the circuit, but its hard to win in a field like this without a partner on the track, especially when Ren has Phasma covering his insane maneuvers every turn. 

“Rey, I know you always idolized Luke, but you didn’t see him before he left. He blames himself for Ben—Ren. He’ll never race again.” She pauses, and I can hear her mumbling to someone off the phone “Oh Rey, I have to run. I’ll see you back in the garage, tell Poe I’m still proud of him.” 

She hangs up abruptly. 

I stand there, the phone call reminding me again of the possibility of adding a second driver. The idea won’t get out of my head. If we only had someone who could block Phasma, make it an even playing field. I know Luke isn’t coming back, in fact I already went to his weird beach house in Wales the year before, after Kylo appeared on the circuit and started using his fleet of subordinates to prevent us from ever making the podium. If Luke wouldn’t come back then, why would he now? But I hadn’t been considering Luke when I mentioned it to Leia today. 

I walk over to Poe, who is still running his hands over BB8s hood, like he is petting a dog. I think I even hear him talking to the car. 

“Poe, I have a question for you what do you think about adding another driver to our roster? We could pull R2 out of storage, get him up to snuff before the next race. I bet I could even increase the combustion rate in his cylinders, his model wa—“ 

“Woah woah woah, hold up little Rey. What has gotten into your head since we hired you on in Jakku?” He interrupts me, but I hardly notice. When an Alpha is talking, you shut up. “I know you’re the best mechanic around, but you shouldn’t go putting untested mods on in the middle of a racing circuit. Besides we don’t have anyone to drive that car.” 

He pauses, turning towards her. He always smells a little ripe after a race, a side effect of his Alpha Pheromones building up in the heat of the race. Usually I can’t smell him, but today his scent seems to catch in my throat. I find myself leaning towards him involuntarily. “Hey, stand up, get your head together Rey. We’ve got company”

“Yes” _Alpha_ I almost blurt out, but manage to bite nearly through my tongue stopping the word from slipping through my lips. Poe is never one to use his alpha voice on others, but for some reason I’ve found that despite my Beta gender, I have always been more susceptible to Alpha orders. 

“Are you and your little band of rebels ready to give up yet, or do you need us to embarrass you further?” Comes a deep but feminine voice from behind me. I roll my eyes and zip up and fasten the collar of my jumpsuit. I have never been fully comfortable with the idea that Alphas can actually _smell_ some people’s emotions, especially since as a beta I don’t have the sensitivity myself. Poe has become like a brother to me, but the pair of Alphas I turn around to are most certainly not our friends. 

Phasma and Kylo Ren saunter up, both of them still wearing their custom helmets as they always do in the pits. Chrome for Phasma, black for Ren. I feel uncomfortable behind the mirrored glass of their visors, unable to see the looks on their faces. 

“We will never give up, not while there is still hope that the Galactic Circuit can remain a neutral ground for all racers to have a fair shot, and not just those who are backed by giant corporations like the First Order” So noble, so useless, so _Poe_. I know better than anyone that these people don’t care anything about the racing circuit, all they care about is funneling as much money as possible out of the planets most popular sport. 

“We’ll see how you do after the Coruscant Grand Prix,” Kylo says from behind his black mask. 

Its a threat and Poe, sweet brotherly Poe, actually growls in response. I’m so shocked by this outright testament of Alpha aggression I just stand there frozen. Phasma puts a vicelike grip on Ren’s arm, and before I can do the same for Poe he lunges at Black clad driver. 

“What the hell Poe!” I scream, scrambling to pull him off of Kylo as Phasma restrains the thrashing Ren. I can’t see his face behind the helmet, but he swoops out with a vicious kick that lands on the meaty part of Poe’s thigh. He cries out in pain, scrabbling to get a punch to his opponent’s solar pleaxus. I finally manage to get my arms around Poe’s middle, andI have to use all of my strength plus most of my body weight just to pull him off, and end up flat on my ass, arms locked around the iron muscled midsection of my now very irate alpha friend. 

“You need to chill out, and we need to go.” I say, still wrapped around his middle. I see Phasma is having an easier time with Ren, but she is an Alpha too.

We could be penalized for this, and our standing would drop even lower. Leia is going to kill me for not being able to handle Poe. That’s actually the most important part of my job as Pit Leader, well that and acting as the company’s mechanic. 

It takes too heartbeats, but Ren finally manages to control himself, following Phasma back to their own pits. Broken from his alpha bloodlust Poe whirls, and to my absolute and unending horror he slings an arm around my neck, pulling me against his body until I am flush with it. If it wasn’t for his previous outburst it could have been a friendly hug, the kind of embrace that one gives a friend.

I shove Poe off of me, which seems to bring him to his senses. 

“Rey, I’m so sorry.” 

“Its fine,” I respond “Just get it under control.” 

I turn to get back to the crew, who have mostly packed up the pit. BB8 is loaded into the truck. Its time to head back to our garage, lick our wounds and prepare for the penultimate race of the circuit.

I take one last look at the pit, most of the crews are still around, relaxing in their surety of having a job for at least a season more. Ren stands stiffly, just on the edge of his pit. I look into his visor, and I feel the weight of his gaze behind the opaque glass.

His gaze doesn’t move until I slam the door to the truck, leaving our losses behind.

….

 

I give the order to get R2 out of storage as soon as we return to our garage in D’qar. 

We may not have a driver now, but it will take almost the entire 2 week break between races to get the car up to date and shipped to the next race location, in Coruscant. 

I am lying on my back underneath R2, trying to puzzle out a way to increase the resilience of the frame without compromising the integrity of the F1 guidelines when I hear the tell-tale taps of heeled boots entering the garage. I don’t even move from beneath the vehicle, always more comfortable where I can tinker with something as Leia approaches. 

“Rey, I know you want this to work but it is not practical. Even if we did have a driver, we need you working on BB8, getting Poe ready for the race. You are the Pit team lead, but I need you to start looking out for the future of the team, not just the next race.”

I lean back, tracing my hands along the rough components in R2’s undercarriage. He is practically a classic now, from an F1 age before all components were made by the First Order, it pains her to upgrade him, to change what he is just to make him faster. 

“Leia, there won’t be a Resistance if we don’t win the next race. You know how Cantho Bight is, if we can’t get a second rider on the track there than we won’t stand a chance. If we can even get third place in Coruscant, then we might actually stand a chance at snagging the cup” That and I have an idea about who can drive R2, but I know Leia won’t go for it. She may have been the first woman to go into the pits, but she stopped there, and when the first order started gaining standing in the ranks they demanded that Leia be removed from the pits. That year there wasn’t a single Beta driver, and the First Order claimed that the presence of an Omega in the pits was distracting, as well as an unfair advantage for her mate. We have barely been able to get back to the point where females can work pit crews, what would they think of a female beta driver?

A little pang of grief goes through my chest at the thought of Han. I don’t know why he and Leia separated, given that they were a mated pair but I wish I had met him. I heard that he and his friend Chewie frequent street races now, a dangerous past time for more reasons than the risk of crashing. 

“Just the two ladies I was looking for!” Comes Poes ecstatic voice, he has determinedly avoided me since his event in the Pits. I cornered Connix, a member of our pit team who is staunchly loyal to Poe and his often foolhardy plans and tried to get her to reveal what was going on, but she just mumbled something about him being embarrassed. 

I want to ask him if its just his rut coming on, because that’s something I’ll need to know before our next race. If he can’t get through that before it then we have definitely lost all hope. 

“What would that be Poe?” Leias sandpaper voice turns on him. I haven’t heard Poe this excited about something since that time he took me clay pigeon shooting. Cars and guns are his weaknesses. 

“I think we found ourselves a new driver. Leia, Rey, meet Finn. Finn, meet the girls!”

I don’t move, steeling myself against the disappointment which blooms in my chest. He is the only one I ever shared my dream of driving in a Grand Prix with, and here he is with someone they don’t even know at my first suggestion of adding a driver. Stupid alphas.

“A Stormtrooper, really Poe?” Leia asks.

“Hey, I broke my contract just because I heard you were looking for a driver, they won’t give me a chance over there because I’m a beta, and discrimination doesn’t sit well with me.” The new voice—Finn, adds. 

“There is no reason a Beta can’t drive for us Finn, but we will need to see you do a few laps first.”

I slide out from under R2, but don’t move to get up from the dolly. A figure wearing a black pit suit stands next to Leia, his infectious smile perfectly matching his excited voice. Poe stands next to him, staring directly at me as I come into view, his eyes bore into mine. It's the first time I have seen Poe since our incident in the pit, and he is standing right above me. 

“Have you even showered yet Poe, you smell like shit” He really does, and I cover my nose, even as I realize that he doesn’t smell that bad, in fact his boy odor is mixed with a current of sandalwood and sunscreen, and although it's not a scent I would choose it's surprisingly pleasant. 

Leia’s eyes snap from Finn to Poe and back to me. I look at her, and a look of confusion falling over her face. 

“Rey, I think you’re presenting.”


	2. Doctors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! This chapter is a bit of an infodump and for that I apologize. I want to establish the O/B/A society quickly so we can get back on the Angsty Pain Train-Destination Kylo Ren.
> 
> The next chapter will be up tomorrow and is more action, thanks for sticking with me!

The antiseptic smell burns my nose like the time I had inhaled vodka while laughing at one of Jessika’s stupid jokes. I keep rubbing it, but the irritation won’t go away.

“Please stop, you’re making me nervous” Poe says, but he remains standing ramrod straight, his back against the wall instead of sitting in the chair next to the hospital bed where I am laying down. The nurses had forced him to practically shower in neutralizing spray, and take a temporary high dose suppressant before granting him access to the exam room. 

“Sorry, I just feel like my nose is on fire. What do you think they clean this place with, battery acid?”

“I think you are going to be in for a disappointing diagnoses” he responds, then returns to chewing his nails. It’s a bad habit he tends to slip into when he gets extremely nervous. 

Earlier Leia had been slightly panicked in the garage after catching my scent, and forced Poe and even Finn to wait outside. It was then that Leia Organa Solo, my boss and mentor had decided that she needed to give me the ‘Your changing body’ speech.

I died of embarrassment. Well nearly. 

She had insisted that I go to the physician, and even tried to accompany me. I put an immediate end to that, partially because I was still embarrassed that whatever was happening, Leia had been the first to notice, and secondly because there was no way I was going to the clinic covered by our Galaxy Circuit health insurance. If there was any record of me being an Omega in their system I would be banned from the pits for good. 

And, there is just no way I am actually an _Omega_. 

The door flies open, a male Alpha doctor striding into the room. I think Poe is muttering about why he had to take a suppressant but I am completely distracted by the man in front of me. I sit up immediately from my prone position, leaning forward. 

“For Force sake Rey, you have got to stop that!” Poe groans, tipping his head back so he is staring at the ceiling, the muscle in his jaw clenching as grinds his teeth. 

“Stop what Poe, trying to get a diagnosis for whatever the hell is making me smell weird?” I snap, irritation flaring in my chest. 

“Umm, sorry for interrupting, I think he is referring to your autopheromonal response when you encounter an Alpha.” I think all the blood in my body has accumulated in my neck and face, for how much the flush is overtaking me. _Autopheromonal response?_ “It is, uh, very potent right now” The physician wrinkles his nose.

I can’t even respond, I think my jaw must be touching my clavicle my mouth is hanging so far open. 

_What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck_

“You are Miss. Rey… Jakku? Is your family associated with the recycling industry?” He is just trying to be polite I remind myself, most people don’t know how Foster systems assign surnames to abandoned children. 

“Yeah thats me, so I’ve been having this wei—“

“Dr. Abrams,” The doctor says, completely interrupting me and turning to extend his hand to Poe. “And are you her mate”

It’s more a statement than a question. I think Poe is about to have an aneurism by how red his face is getting, but I don’t take as much pleasure in the sight as I usually would since I can feel a matching beet red blush on my face. 

“No, no I’m just her friend, we have known each other for a long time.” Poe replies, and thankfully not taking the man’s hand.

The doctor doesn’t even seem to hear his response, he continues facing Poe and reading the chart in his hands. I realize he still hasn’t introduced himself to me, though he immediately addressed the other Alpha in the room. “And have you had any periods of extended separation recently, periods of heightened fight or flight response, or altercations with other Alphas in your” He pauses, eyes finally leaving his chart to flit between the two of them, “in Miss Jakkun’s presence?”

I interrupt Poe before he punches the man or dies of embarrassment, I’m not sure which is more likely at this point. 

“Excuse me, but I think I would feel better if Poe waited outside while you and I have this conversation Dr. Abrams” I say, sticking my hand out directly in front of me. Poe winces. 

“Of course,” the Alpha says, though his eyebrows do raise up as Poe slips out without a word. The door clicks softly behind him.

I immediately start to panic. “Ummm”

“Why don’t we get a nurse, hmm?” He quickly runs out the door and returns with a small female, she comes in and immediately walks up to me and places her hand on my arm. I begin to relax. 

“Sorry about that, it is unusual for me to have to do this sort of appointment, usually that work is reserved for pediatricians” I’m no stranger to condescending Alphas, but even this feels like a little much.

“I’m sorry I’m a little confused, I came here because all my friends think that I’m presenting, but I really just need someone to clear me so I can prove that I’m a Beta if something comes up at my job. I’m almost 21,there is no way I’m an Omega”

He nods, but I can tell the words don’t mean anything to him. 

“Unfortunately you are presenting, as we can see by the blood sample you took earlier in addition to your rather obvious scent.” Ok, I might not be versed in Omega courtesy, but even to me it seems pretty rude to point out the way someone smells when giving a medical diagnoses. “This is later than is typical, however you are still well within the safe age range. Likely your late presentation was caused by your proximity to an Alpha around your own age and limited sexual encounters. We often see this in those Omegas who for whatever reason spend a large period of their adolescence near non-family member Alphas. It would take a particularly, potent pheromone combination to create a trigger for them.”

 _what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck_

“Have you recently begun a sexual relationship with Mr. Dameron, one which was precipitated by years of proximity?” 

“What no” I say indignantly 

“Hmmm. You said you need a Beta distinction for your job?” 

“Yes, I work on a pit crew, for the Galactic Circuit?”

The Doctor perks up at this, making eye contact with me for the first time. “I didn’t realize First Order employed Omegas.”

 _Of course they don’t,_ I want to scream _because they are a greedy corporation that monetizes their macho, Alpha reputation and doesn’t hire **any** women, especially not Omegas. _

Instead a smile tightly. 

“I actually am a Pit Leader for Resistance Racing, been on the crew since I was 15” is all I say. 

“Well I think we found our answer. Being surrounded by so many Alphas probably had your Pheromonal tolerance pretty high. It would take some sort of event to trigger your presentation. I can ask your, acquaintance” He seems to shuffle the word around in his mouth, as if he can’t believe an Alpha and an Omega are capable of being in a platonic relationship. 

_Did I just refer to myself as an Omega?_

“Unfortunately I won’t be able to give you a Beta clearance, it wouldn’t hold up to any scrutiny anyway, but we should take this time to discuss your plans for your distinction health. Of course I would recommend you see an Omega specialist for regular check-ups, but right now there are some more pressing medical issues that I can deal with.” 

“Yeah sure, don’t I need, umm, Suppressants?” I’m starting to panic again, the nurse isn’t helping anymore. There is an Alpha that I don’t know in this small room with me, and I’m an Omega, and Suppressants? How am I going to keep working? I won’t go back to Jakku, nothing could make me return to that desert hellscape. I can fix cars on the side, I can find a way to provide for myself, even though half my career opportunities are circling the drain with this distinction hanging around my neck. I can’t keep the thoughts from coming, they’re consuming me. I realize the Doctor has kept talking, even though my brain seems to have short circuited as I realize the consequences of this gender distinction sink in. 

“—Suppresants, and an contraceptive injection. You’ll need the latter at least once a month the next year, I think it will take some time for your system to even out. Were you planning on allowing yourself to go into a heat now?” 

I can’t do this, can’t be this, I’m not an Omega. I’m _Rey_ I am a person. 

And then I pass out. 

_………_

The sharp smell of ammonia brings me back around. The Dr. Abrams is gone, and the nurse is hovering over me. 

“Shhh its ok, you should’ve seen me when I found out my distinction. I couldn’t even leave the house for a few days I was so scared. But you’ll be fine, you’re strong.” 

She pats my arm, then hands me a thick pad with several prescriptions. 

“We went ahead and gave you the contraceptive injection while you were out, and here are your prescriptions.” She turns and pours a glass of water, picking up a small cup that Rey thinks is the same size as the Jell-O shots she and Poe drink at Speedy’s after a big win. This cup is not filled with alcohol infused gelatin though, and instead holds 3 pills. “The large red pill is an emergency suppressant, they aren’t recommended for prolonged use, as they can make you susceptible to breakthrough heats, which are often more intense and shocking to the system. The small blue and white pills are your daily heat suppressant and a neutralizer, which should keep your scent relatively normal.” 

Before she even has the chance to hand me the water I swallow them dry. 

“So will I receive a prescription for all 3 of these?” I ask, emergency suppressant, that’s what they gave Poe when he came in here and I couldn’t smell anything on him. 

“You will only have a script for the daily and heat suppressants, as I said there are risks involved with the Emergency suppressants, and the side effects aren’t usually worth the risk.” She frowns, putting a hand on my arm. “It may seem like a death sentence, but it can be a beautiful thing. There are definitely some parts that are enjoyable” she smirks, but I can’t imagine anything that would make this enjoyable. 

“Please” I say my voice shaking, but I need this. “Can I please have a few emergency suppressants, just to get me through the transition. The Galactic Circuit is over in 4 weeks, only the Coruscant Grand Prix and Canto Bight cup final are left. That’s 4 more days in the pits, maybe 3 if I can get out of one, and I need this.” 

“Is that Alpha outside Poe Dameron? The Grand Prix driver?” She responds, not quite making eye contact with me. 

I smile, “Would you like to meet him?” 

_…….._

One bottle of 6 Emergency suppressants and a much more irritated Poe Dameron later and we are on our way back to the Garage. 

“You know you won’t be able to hide this for long right?” Poe says, as he pulls his sleek X class sports car of the highway and onto the dirt road where an outdated sign reads ‘Rebel Alliance Racing Teams’. My heart sinks as I see the old symbol, there is only one alliance racing team left, and it looks like it’s going to be the last. 

“I have the Emergency suppressants, more than enough to get me through the last races” I hope at least. Poes scent is already almost back to full force, even after the suppressants took effect and my hyperosmia abated. 

“Yeah but we have events that you need to show your face at. You can’t just skip the Galas and show up to the pits. Phasma will know somethings up, and we need to make a strong presence there. Show the council that we contribute something to the racing community” I never noticed how sexy Poe looks when he drives, one hand on the wheel and the other shifting as we navigate the winding roads that lead to the compound where we live. I’m not sure if it’s his alpha scent in such an enclosed space or just the shock of finding out that I’m an Omega, someone who is actually compatible with him. 

I thought I had left my crush on Poe behind with my pit crew days. When I was 15 and he was 19 he seemed dreamy, but as I matured and realized all the issues that come with alphas I pushed the idea aside, content to find someone else once I established myself in the racing community. Suddenly I’m finding that all those feelings are bubbling back up, and I feel like an insecure teenager again. 

The good news is 6 years of proximity has made Poe and I better than best friends, we are practically blood. So I know what I’m about to ask him won’t be too awkward. 

“What does rut feel like?” 

He swerves the car, nearly going off the road. “WHAT THE FUCK REY” 

“Sorry I just, I don’t know any Omegas my own age and I don’t know what is going on and I’m freaking out!” The tears start then, hot and blistering. “Am I going into heat? I just feel so, wound up” 

Poe pulls the car to the side of the road, dust settling around them. Rey keeps looking out the front windshield even as Poe twists in his seat so he is facing her. 

“The good news Rey is that you definitely aren’t going into heat. Even that asshole doctor would’ve been able to tell you if that was happening. Well I would be able to tell you too, but I’d probably do it while slobbering all over your neck and trying to bite you.” 

I am absolutely not looking at him now. I count the posts in the barbed wire fence. 1, 2, 3, 4, Poes tongue sliding down my neck, over my shoulder, right to that sensitive— 

Nope. No. Stop it. Why did I do this to myself in such a _confined_ space? 

“I think what your experiencing now is just the shock of, well, of waking up. Realizing you are a sexual being, with needs and desires.” He pauses, then places his hand on mine, intertwining his fingers and resting them on the gear shift. “I remember when I presented everything felt, well _intense_ it was like everything around me had been in black and white, and then I opened my eyes and could see color” 

“More like my nose opened, and I realized the entire world is covered in shit” I mutter, even if my heightened sense of smell has mostly picked up on delicious alpha scents. 

“Hey” He puts the hand which isn’t holding mine on my chin, slowly drawing my face so that I can no longer pretend to count posts, and have to look him in the eye. “You haven’t had a lot of experience with guys. You are the strongest person I know, look how far you’ve come since we met” 

I snap my eyes closed at that. I don’t want to look at Poe, and I definitely don’t want to think about Jakku. 

“Can we just, call it a day Poe? I need to get some sleep and we have one day here before we get on the road for the next two races.” The 2 weeks between Coruscant and Canto Bight will be filled with events that all of us will be expected to attend, its always the longest stretch of the season. 

“Whatever you need Rey, I’ll be here for you” Then his fingers disentangle from mine, and he puts his attention back on the road. “I’ll always be here for you” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the Reylo is coming, but it wouldn’t be any fun without some drama right? 
> 
> Again, comments are the oil that keeps the engine running ;)


	3. Streets

“Minute-fifty-two split on lap 32 Finn” I say into my headset as I watch the former First Order stormtrooper finish another subpar lap. The winning time for last year’s Coruscant Grand Prix was 128 minutes, Finn would need to get at his splits down to a sub 1:40 if he wants to be even close to that. 

And right now he is the only one on the track. 

The morning sunlight streams through the top levels of Coruscant’s skyscrapers, and I enjoy the warmth beneath my scarf and leather jacket with ‘Rebel Alliance Racing’ emblazoned on the back in fiery red lettering. I have always liked vintage things. 

Finn’s out of sight from my perch in the currently empty grandstands almost as soon as I give him his split time, the blue and white etching of R2 disappearing in a curve to the lower levels of the city, where the track twists and winds until it meets the surface level straightaways and hairpin turns. That’s where the pit is for this race, where I would usually be sitting and gossiping with the pit crew if my whole life hadn’t been turned upside down in the last week. 

“The roads are dewy, I’m giving myself a today to adjust to the track” Finn mutters, his voice slightly staticky from the interference caused by the mass of skyscrapers the track winds through. 

“This race isn’t about time for you Finn, its about your ability to play point for Poe” I say, wrapping the scarf tighter around my neck. It was Poe’s suggestion. Even though spring is starting the city can be cool in the morning, and the scarf helps cover the scent glands in my neck. Can’t be too careful when hanging around the track. “But in order for you to do that you’ll need to be able to keep up with him.” 

Poe isn’t here this morning, probably still hungover from some party the night before. The official Grand Prix events won’t start until tonight, but he has always loved Coruscant’s urban nightlife. That and I think he might be avoiding me. 

“Let’s call it a morning, I’ll meet you back at the hotel” I say, eying the First Order Executives filing onto the grandstand. Their black suits seem ridiculous this early in the morning. It’s not even 7 am, what sort of meeting could require formal business attire? 

“Sure thing Rey,” Finn responds, “Everything OK up there?”

“Just some First Order big wigs poking around, I’ll be fine” I say. They seem to be dispersing, muttering amongst themselves as they crowd around the main entrance. I hastily climb to the emergency exit at the top of the grandstand. I don’t need to get close to them to know that they’re a group of Alphas. Anyone of rank in the First Order is that distinction. I slip into the concrete hallway which leads to the main thoroughfare of the skyline district, where all the cities wealthy shop and dine while those they deem below their station live literally below them in the sub levels. Its early, so not too many of the wealthiest residents will be out. 

I’m a few feet away from the exit when he steps in. 

His form is huge, so tall that he has to duck his head to step down into the concrete exit tunnel where I’m standing. If his height and build wasn’t indication enough, the scent that immediately permeates the enclosed space and drifts up my nose until I feel high on its scent follows. 

_Alpha_

I freeze, unable to move as my traitorous body overtakes motor functions from the rational part of my brain. 

The man doesn’t seem to notice, tapping away on a cell phone as he struts down the hallway toward me. When he is only a step in front of me I manage to wrangle control of my legs away from the instinctual part of me which wants my muscles to atrophy in this position until the Alpha tells me exactly what to do. I practically fall against the wall trying to stay as far away from him as possible in the enclosed space. 

Still, it's an emergency exit, and the concrete walls are not too far apart. 

He brushes against my arm, the touch sending shockwaves up my body. Still he doesn’t notice me, continuing past as his thumbs dance along the glass screen of his phone. Despite my desperate lunge to get out of his way, I still can’t manage to make my feet move to the exit, my neck craning to keep him in my sight as I watch his figure step up and into the grandstand. I can’t see the details of his body now, the sunlight painting him as a silhouette of darkness, ensconced in light. 

He turns his head, and I flee, wrapping the scarf tighter around my neck. 

……..

 

I really, really, really hate shopping. 

I twirl in front of the mirror, the orange hem of my skirt swishing over the white marble floor. Leia and Connix coo and aw as I try to even out the pleats of my dress. I feel exposed and uncomfortable, and it doesn’t help that two attendants take every dress I pass over to be laundered the minute I reject it. There is no way I smell that bad.

“Do you really think it’s the best idea for me to be buying a dress Leia? Don’t we have bills to pay?” I sigh. I already know what her response will be, but I am trying to guilt her. I spent the entire morning arguing over my _required_ attendance at the gala with Leia in the bedroom of her suite at the Peninsula Hotel. Poe was supposed to meet me there to discuss Finn’s practice laps that morning but he left the minute I arrived at the suite, saying he needed to strategize with Finn.

I’ve felt on edge since then.

“Our tentative position in the racing circuit has nothing to do with funds, Rey” Leia replies tersely, already perusing dresses 13 and 14. I know she is heir to the now defunct Alderaan Company, and although it was destroyed her personal funds are still substantial, but I still feel awkward shopping with her. She tends to forget that I came from nothing, and that everything I have is a direct result of her choices. I feel indebted to her enough as it is. “It has to do with the First Orders desire to completely control the Galaxy Circuit. In fact we actually receive more of a stipend from the circuit now that Finn is participating in this Grand Prix. If we don’t use the expense account now it’ll go to waste” 

I huff and stare at the ceiling, counting backwards from 10. I really don’t want to fight with Leia anymore. 

She notices my frustration and comes to stand behind me. “I know you hate these things, and I know it must be stressful after everything that has happened. But you are our only hope Rey. The council needs to see you as a light for the future of racing. You can bring the racing world into an era of equality, for all the genders. Don’t let those misogynistic First Order supremacists take this away from you.”

“I’ll try not to,” I say, and even I can hear the pout in my voice. 

“Rey, I hope you realize being an Omega doesn’t make you a different person. It's a footnote of your biology. You’re still the best Pit Leader in the circuit, and the most brilliant mechanic I’ve ever seen. Nothing can take that away from you”

I know she is trying to be reassuring, but it only makes me despair more. “If the First Order takes over the circuit they will be able to take it away from me though Leia. They would blacklist me in a heartbeat.” 

“Well then, I guess we’ll just have to win then.” Leia says, just as Connix bursts into the dressing room. 

“I found it, I found the perfect dress.” 

……..

 

Something is definitely up with Poe. 

Tonight is the Coruscant Grand Prix’s kickoff Gala, and the entire city seems to have shown up in their best. I am wearing a high necked ruffled gown, with long sleeves and a long skirt that brushes against the floor. The sheet material feels weightless, and shimmers a silvery color. Although the extra material should keep my scent from alerting anyone to my distinction as long as I keep my distance, I still took one of my Emergency Suppressants before we arrived, just in case.

Despite that Poe ditched our small entourage at the first chance he could, Finn following him like a lost puppy. Leia and Connix quickly made their way to various council members, using their diplomatic demeanors to try and sway some influence in our favor. So I’m by myself, leaning against the edge of the balcony where the open air will hopefully prevent my scent from becoming apparent, while Poe mingles with a gaggle of Coruscant society ladies at the bar inside. I stare daggers at him from isolated perch.

I pick up the first drink that comes by, something bubbling in a flute with a miniature rose for garnishment. I pluck the petals one by one, bruising them between my thumb and forefinger before letting them fall to the floor.

Only a few more nights of this I have to remind myself. Coruscant is unusual with its opening and finishers gala, as well as several public events. The city really likes to celebrate the race. It’s Thursday, and the first qualifier will be tomorrow. It's just Finn Friday, as Poe is already guaranteed a spot in the finals, but the thought of back to back days in the Pit doesn’t give me the same thrill it would have just a few weeks ago. I love race days, but now I find myself dreading them. I can’t help but imagine that it will be my last, that I’ll be found out and banned for the crime of being born an Omega. 

I’m so lost in my thoughts of all the ways I can make Poe pay for ignoring me all night that I don’t notice the figure who stands beside me. 

“You have something against Dameron?” He asks, his voice husky and deep. It immediately sends a icy thrill down my back. “Or does every woman here just fall at his feet?”

I turn my head slightly, hyper aware that any exposure of my neck could expose my scent, however dampened, to a room filled to bursting with Alphas. The figure is tall, and familiar looking, although I’m sure I would recognize his face if I had met him before. His hair is too long to be considered professional, but his features seem aristocratic in their bearing. 

“I wasn’t looking at Poe” I hiss, but it comes out as more of a breathy whisper. 

“Oh so you’re on a first name basis?” He sneers. “Are you another one of his jaded conquests? I thought most of you stopped showing up to the racing circuit” 

“You watch your mouth” I say rounding on him. I look him up and down again. Black suit, Black tie, white and black geometric pin on his pocket. “What are you just another one of the first order drivers whose only reason for finishing is to even the playing field for that no talent Kylo Ren?”

That gets him going, his fists clench at his sides, and he pushes off the balustrade stepping towards me. “As a matter of fact I—“

“Don’t try to justify yourself to me” I say “You should be ashamed of working for an organization as prejudiced as the First Order. Don’t you have a sister, a mother? Do you really think it's alright that they refuse to hire any women unless they are Alphas? I’m the best Pit leader on the circuit, but they wouldn’t hire me if I was the last mechanic on this god-forsaken planet” I don’t actually expect him to answer me, but the words tumble out. 

“I knew I recognized you from somewhere.” The man before me says, my eyes snap to him. “You’re that girl from the pit, the Organa charity case. I heard she picked you up in Jakku, one of Plutt’s former scaveng—”

I see red, a blinding, consuming scarlet shade that blocks my vision. I can’t stop myself, anger burning through my veins so I feel like I’m on fire as I round on the man before me. 

“Don’t you dare” I mean to scream it, but it comes out as more of a sob. I am no charity case. I freed myself from the shackles of poverty through my own two hands, and I am lucky for it. But my anger comes from the part of me that wishes I had been saved, that wishes I didn’t have to spend my entire childhood tinkering with spare parts and nearly starving. I wish someone like Leia had come sooner. My hand connects with his cheek, the slap echoing across the abandoned balcony. 

The world stills. 

He stares at me, eyes looking nearly black in the evening darkness. His eyes flick up my form and he rests his hand on his cheek where I hit him, as if he can’t ‘believe I would dare lay a hand on him. 

His nostrils flare at the exact moment the doors to the balcony burst open, the deep thump of some new song spilling around me, and Poe, Poe _fucking_ Dameron, tumbles onto the balcony with a girl on each arm. 

I whirl. 

“Rey, I’ve been looking for you” He slurs, he leans even more heavily on a petite blonde. Their scent hits me and I have to press my lips together to keep myself from emitting the noise that bubbles in my throat. I’m unsure if its a whine or a snarl. Poe seems to have found an Omega to scratch his itch. 

The girl giggles, and I turn around, intending to continue my verbal and physical sparring match with the First Order stranger. 

He’s gone. 

……...

 

Finn manages to qualify for the Grand Prix. 

Barely. 

I spend the entire race in the Pit, my tracksuit zipped up to my ears despite the unseasonably warm weather. It looks like summer has arrived in Coruscant early. When Finn pulls in R2 he practically jumps out of the car as if it is on fire. 

“What happened out there Finn?” I ask, even though I watched every single one of the 120 minutes on the large screen that sits above the pit. He panicked whenever another driver crowded him, drove passively, wasn’t aggressive and generally seemed scared of the gas pedal the entire race. The only reason he managed to qualify was when half the field was taken out after a first order team crashed. 

“I don’t know. Those other drivers, they gang up together.” He tosses his helmet into the seat while somehow simultaneously unzipping the top of his tracksuit, tying the arms around his waist. He takes off out the back of the Pit, exiting to the surface level streets.

I wave to Connix, and she turns to lead the crew in servicing R2. I told her about my _condition_ in preparation for the worst. I don’t want to abandon the team without a leader in case I am outed. The emergency suppressant seems to be less effective every time I take it, and I can already tell that my scent is back already today, despite having just taken the pill two hours ago. I’m not sure if I’ll make it to the end of the season if this keeps up. 

I follow Finn, tracking him through the masses of fans who are dispersing after the end of the race. Down here the people are dirty and wear clothes that have been worn with use. I see none of the pristine new apparel the First Order sells, but I do see the occasional outdated ‘Rebel Alliance’ ballcap or Resistance T-shirt. I feel much more at ease in this neighborhood than the upper echelons of the city. 

“You know, for your first time in a race you did alright. You managed not to crash R2.” I say.

“I guess that is something.” Finn replies “I just don’t want to let Poe down tomorrow you know. I feel like he would almost be better off without me. I choked, and the best drivers weren’t even on the road”

“Poe is just happy to have someone on his side” I say, which is not exactly true. Poe loves to win, and he will do just about anything to make it on the podium. But Finn seems truly heartbroken with the idea of disappointing him. 

“I guess we should head back to get cleaned up. What time should we meet before the parade?” I had almost forgotten about that with everything that’s going on. The qualifying drivers will ride their F1 cars through the streets, bands and dancers and balloons following them. Another display of ostentatious pageantry, one I don’t feel the need to attend. 

“You go ahead Finn, and tell Leia and Poe I’ll see them tomorrow. No one will miss me, and I want to get some rest before the Grand Prix tomorrow, I’m exhausted” I lie smoothly. I feel wired, like I won’t sleep at all tonight. I usually don’t the night before a big race. 

Finn says goodbye, hurrying back in the direction of the hotel. He might be disappointed in his performance, but the parade of drivers is not something he will want to miss.

I meander through the district, the streets emptying around me. I find what I’m looking for when I see what looks like graffiti on a tucked away doorway, but the lettering is in Huttese. 

I knock. 

………..

 

Hours later and I’m belted into an old sports car. It's a Correllian model, a piece of garbage really, but it was the only thing worth buying off the Hutt’s lot. It looks like it was well loved at one time, with various modifications having been made to the engine and interior. There is even a pair of gold dice hanging from the rear view mirror. 

And its fast. 

I cruise around the planet’s surface level streets. Most are abandoned at this late hour, although some stragglers from the parade stumble through the bottle strewn sidewalks, heading home to get a few hours of sleep before the morning start time of the Grand Prix. 

My cell vibrates on the passenger seat beside me, a picture of Poe and I smiling in the garage with engine oil in my hair and his perfectly coiffed hair lights up the cars interior. I don’t pick up. 

I know it's unfair, that Poe and I always spend the night before a race strategizing, planning the pit stops and discussing which drivers will be the front runners, and how he can overtake them, but tonight I can’t pretend that everything is ok. I know if I have to be in a room with Poe, Alpha Poe and his sunscreen and sandalwood scent, we will end up fighting or fucking, and I’m not sure which scares me more. 

So I drive. 

Eventually I find myself on the outskirts of the city. The reaching skyscrapers giving way to warehouses and pocked roads. I circle, taking a route which winds through the warehouses, down to the river and back up to warehouses. A loop. 

A track. 

My first lap takes me 71 seconds. The Corellian flies, but its real advantage is the way it grabs through turns, Tail end drifting while the front wheels grip the road, its agility giving it an advantage over smaller, faster cars whose lack of weight would have them spin out. 

On the fourth lap someone follows me. 

On the fifth I slow down as I reach the stoplight which I have mentally designated as the finish line. The car pulls up beside me. I roll my drivers side window down an inch. The sleek black car rolls its passenger window fully.

I can’t see whose inside, but I feel the electricity pound through my fingers. It doesn’t matter who the opponent is, as long as they’re there. Driving laps solo is practice. Driving laps with an opponent is a race. 

“3 laps” comes the voice, one I recognize. My heart jumps. The Alpha from the balcony. 

“1” I respond. It's nearly 5 am. I had almost given up hope of finding an opponent before I would have to head back to the hotel to meet with the team, but I can make time for this race. For him. 

“On Green” is the only reply. 

I glance to the side again, I realize now that the car is a TIE Silencer, the most expensive street car the First Order makes. Its smaller than the Corellian, and I know my best shot is gaining on the corners, going full speed into them while my opponent has to slow down. I return my gaze to the stoplight, mentally planning my laps. 

The light turns Green. 

The screech of two cars pulling out blasts through the quiet night, the engines roaring as both of us volley for a lead position. The TIE wins after a heartbeat, the smaller and sleeker car pulling ahead. 

I gain though. My grey beater car steadily hanging onto the TIE’s bumper. 

The first turn approaches, and the driver slows to avoid spinning out. I speed up. My car hits the turn on a dime, pulling in adjacent to the TIE as we head into the second straight. I glance over in a futile effort to see the driver of the car next to me. His window is down, and as the streetlights flash past I catch a glimpse of his face. He looks to me, lips arching as he yells something I can’t hear, and then his car drops out behind me. He slammed on the brakes.

A bang, from beneath the Corellian, and the next thing I know I’m spinning uncontrollably, the road twisting beneath me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy 3k chapter. Sorry if this was a bit long, I ended up combining 2 chapters from my outline. As always leave a comment if you can ;)
> 
> Happy Friday! When do you want to see another update?


	4. Race

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey don’t take no shit

The car stops spinning beneath me with a jerk, and the force of my seatbelt snaps my body to the side. I am momentarily dazed, the shock of going from what had to be close to 200 km per hour to zero in a few seconds has adrenaline pumping through my system like a drug. My hands shake despite my white knuckled grip on the wheel. 

The Corellian has done a full 180 turn and my headlights face off against the Silencer’s, like two knights preparing to charge into battle. I see in the strip of pavement between us what caused me to spiral out of control. 

4 planks of wood cover the width of the road. Nails point out from them and glitter in the headlights like iron teeth. 

The man from the balcony steps out of the silencer and stands behind the car door, his figure seeming even taller beside the small sports car. 

“I see you like to drive dirty” I yell, as soon as the word leave my mouth though I realize I’m wrong. He had followed me around the track on my last lap before we raced, and no booby trapped tire punctures had been on the road. Just before he slammed on the breaks, his mouth had been moving, trying to tell me something. A warning. 

“I think someone else decided it was time to interrupt our little race,” He responds, he doesn’t yell but his voice carries besides the several hundred feet between us. “That's quite the car you have there, where’d you find it?”

I glance at the interior of the beater, _is he seriously asking about this piece of garbage?_

Suddenly lights flare in my windshield, a large truck is driving up behind me and quickly. I jump out of the car, turning my back on the First Order stranger to face whatever approaches us. 

The truck slows, and out of its window a man with graying hair yells “Hey, that's my car!”

………..

 

I sit in a diner next to the team’s hotel, still in shock that the man in front of me is actually here, and I’m speaking to my childhood hero. 

Han Solo.

“So that's how Chewie and I got back into the smuggling business, after we got too old for racing” He says, rounding out a very confusing story about a Gauvian Death Gang and the Kanjiclub, both of which I’m not entirely sure I believe exist. 

“Gggraaaheiggheiiiisshshhaa” Han’s friend only speaks shyriiwook, a language from his home country of Kashyyk.

“Yeah Chewie, we had double dipped a little, but that's not the point—“

“I’m sorry, but can I ask a question?” I interrupt Han. I think he is nervous. He has been babbling since I made him give me a ride to the hotel. The First Order stranger had been in his Silencer and peeling out by the time Han’s semi had come to a stop, and I would recognize Han anywhere. When we got back I hastily showered, downed my suppressants and then immediately woke Leia. He is her mate after all. “How is it that that car I was driving—the garbage—is the _Millenium Falcon_?” 

“Hey, she’s not garbage. That’s the fastest ship in the Galaxy Street circuit.” That may be true, but it’s not for any mechanical reason. The Galaxy Street circuit is the infamous Hutt racing league, not sanctioned by any councils or governed by any bodies. It’s anything goes, whoever gets from point A to point B fastest. Leia always said Han was notorious for taking shortcuts, and I secretly think one or two may have been taken in their marriage

Its at that moment that Leia walks in. My back is to the door, but I know by the look on Han’s face, its as if he is seeing the sun after spending a lifetime in darkness. Something sinks in me when I see that.

“Han” she says by way of greeting. She stands beside me, and makes no move to embrace her husband, but he shoots up when she says his name. 

“I saw him Leia” He says, the easy swagger dropping from his voice as something desperate and longing creeps into his words. “I saw our son”

“Our son is gone,” She replies quickly, and then glances meaningfully at me. I take it as my cue to leave. I know Leia doesn’t like to talk about her estranged son, Ben.

“Come on Chewie, let's go see what Poe and Finn have gotten themselves into,” I say, hastily standing up. 

“Ggghhhhhrrraaahgiilihe” 

“Yes, we can get donuts on the way”

…. 

 

“He is going to have to scratch,” 

“Let me see him” I say. Finn is standing in front of Poe’s hotel room door, arms crossed solidly across his chest. “I’ve seen worse, believe me” 

“Absolutely not, I promised him I wouldn’t let you in.”

“What?” Poe won’t let me see him, so whatever is wrong has to be embarrassing. I’ve seen Poe at the lowest of lows, like when he ate the street vendor meat in Tatooine and couldn’t get off the toilet for 2 days. “As the Pit Leader I need to see him before I put in for a scratch.”

Finn doesn’t move, eyes trained on some invisible spot on the ceiling. 

“If you don’t move, I’ll scratch you too” I threaten. I don’t have time for this, we need to leave for the Pits and fast. We are already running late. 

Finn considers this, and chews on his bottom lip in thought. “Ok, I am going to go the bathroom, because I couldn’t hold it. If you happen to go in while I’m gone, well he can’t hold me responsible for that. And uh, leave the door open.” 

_Thats weird_ But Finn saunters down the hall, and when he turns the corner I open the door. 

The room reeks. 

Part of me, the animal part that woke up when Poe and Kylo Ren fought on the track alights in pleasure. _Alpha_ it purrs. 

The rational part of me screams to run. 

They’re both too late, and in the moment I stand frozen in the doorway as my body and mind play tug-of-war over my motor functions Poe is on me, pushing me up against the wall, his hands roaming my limbs, searching for skin that's protected by my tracksuit and scarf. 

“Poe, get off” I say, trying to make my voice even and measured as possible when someone is desperately nuzzling into me. Thank the force I remembered to put on my scarf, and tied it tightly enough that Poe can’t immediately rip it off. 

“Rey, stop” he says, a strange double timber coming into his voice. My limbs immediately stop moving, my mind stills. 

_stop stop stop stop stop stop_

Poe is still nuzzling me, and he picks up my behind pushing me against the wall. My legs instinctually wrap around his waist. 

I’m not sure if a minute or an hour passes. 

Then Han is there instead of Poe, and my mind and body leave that place where all I can hear is an Alpha’s voice. I stand there for a minute, ears still ringing with the word Poe said before I realize he is talking to me again. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Rey please, I’m sorry.” His words sound like a desperate prayer uttered to an angry god. I look up and he catches my eyes. Han still is between us, and Chewie stands menacingly nearby. “I would never, I told Finn not to let you in. I told him I couldn’t be around you. Please Rey.”

I realize there are tears sliding down his tan face, and part of my heart breaks for him. 

“I didn’t want to be this way. I never asked for this.” He is breaking apart right in front of me, the guilt blooming on his face like a flower. “Rey, forgive me, please”

But forgiveness isn’t something I can give right now, as much as I would like to. I may have encroached on his space, but he used his Alpha command, a power of his that I could never hope to resist, not while he is in rut. He took away my free will, my choice. Even if it was just for a moment, it’s not the type of thing you can take back. 

“You’re my best friend Rey.” But he is no longer pleading, he looks resigned, like I have already condemned him, even though no sentence slipped past my lips. “I love you”

There are times when the people we know will behave badly, no matter how good they are inside. They will make poor choices and become so lost in themselves they can’t see the ripples their actions create in the lives of those around them. Can I still love someone who lost himself to his baser self, to that darkness that lives in all of us? Can I forgive him for taking my autonomy away from me, for using something which is simultaneous essential and superfluous to my identity like my gender as a weakness? I don’t know how to reconcile the Poe who I’ve known for 6 years who would never seek to control anything and the animal before me. But I know he is still there, still rooted in a light which battles the dark nature of his self. 

And I love his light. 

“I will always love you Poe” I say, and his face cracks even farther. “But I need to leave” 

 

……………..

“Don’t tell Leia about Poe” I say as I hastily down an emergency suppressant in the cab of Han’s truck. “She already thinks he is too hot headed as it is, but he is the future of this racing company. He is our alpha, after all”

I can’t hide the bitterness from my voice. It tastes like poison on my tongue. 

“Its ok to be mad at him you know” Han replies, he seems to be carefully selecting his words. “It's hard, before you find them.”

I don’t need him to tell me he is talking about finding his mate. I also hear what he leaves unsaid. Poe isn’t mine, and I’m not his. 

“But you have Leia” I say. Everyone knows their love story. Princess Leia they called her on the circuit, heir to one of the biggest racing franchises ever, before it fell apart. She met Han on the street circuit and brought him to F1, where he and her brother overtook the status quo. 

“No one has Leia” Han responds “She has always been her own person, I was just lucky enough to get a little more of her than she gives to most. But before her I was a real wreck.”

“And after her?” I say before realizing the implication of my words. They are still mates, even if they don’t see each other as often. 

“Things calm down once you are mated, the pheromones, the pain. But things really changed when we had Ben.” He stops there, and I don’t think he will elaborate. Then he continues “Poe is a good kid, but even good people slip up. He was like a son to Leia after the falling out. I think he actually reminds her of me. But he did a bad thing, and should be judged accordingly. Too many Alphas get away with that, blaming their biology or some bullshit. They claim they can’t be held accountable for their control around Omegas, but then one Alpha goes and kills another Alpha, and suddenly biology can’t absolve them.”

We fall into silence, and I think on his words. The traffic slows as we approach the pits, fans from the surface levels crowd around the track, vying for position where they can see the race. The cars are in position, and I realize with a start that I never filed Poe’s scratch. 

“Hey kid,” Han says, snapping me from my reverie. The entrance to the pits looms ahead. “Don’t ever let someone treat you differently because of who you are. You give them hell, and make them regret the day they tried to hold you back.” 

“Thanks Han,” I say, scrambling to climb down from the cab, the beginnings of a plan starting to coalesce in my mind. I pull on my headset and dial it into the pits frequency. 

“I’ll be watching from the finish line” He says with a wink, and I realize Han knew what I would do before even I did. 

I turn and run into the locker rooms, dialing into Connix’s frequency. 

“Rey, what’s going on, where’s Poe? Finn said he was going to scratch but we saw you didn’t call it in so we went ahead and got BB8 on the track.” 

“Good, Connix you’re Pit Leader now.” I comb through the lockers looking for the one where Poes mess of gear is. I pull out his helmet, a white striped one with a mirrored orange lens. “Poe will be out in a second” 

 

……….

I jog through the waiting racers, most have already belted in, running last minute checks and whatever mental preparation they do before hurtling themselves down an asphalt track at 300 kilometers per hour. 

The helmet hides my face, but I feel unbelievably seen as my image is projected on the giant screen above the grandstand. Announcers chatter off facts about Poe’s stats, but my ears can’t hear them. I make my way to the third position and since apparently everything that can go wrong, will go wrong this morning, Kylo Ren is leaning against BB8’s wheel.

“I didn’t think you would be making it this morning.” He says, his black and chrome helmet maddeningly keeping his features hidden from view. I wonder if he has some horrible disfigurement for how dedicated he is to keeping his face from the world, and a pang of sympathy drives through me. 

_Did I just feel something other than hatred for **Kylo Ren** ?_

“Move” I say, trying my best to impersonate Poe’s voice. 

I stop a foot in front of him. He stands, his body bumping into mine as he barrels past me to his idling racer. Despite the burned rubber and engine oil smell of the track and my helmet I still get a deep breath of his Alpha scent, like snow on pine trees. 

“Good Luck” I say, before immediately realizing my error. I may hate Kylo Ren, but Poe detests him. Sportsmanship has never been a factor in their interactions. 

“Watch yourself Dameron” is his only response. 

I turn ripping my eyes away from him as I climb into the cockpit of BB8. I do a quick check of BB8’s gauges, everything seeming in order. I check the safety measures, rev the engine. They signal the race start. The engines grow louder, but the crowd noise fades away. I shift my hands on the wheel, white knuckles hidden by padded driving globes. My foot taps on the pedals, not yet engaging but incapable of stillness. My body buzzes with adrenaline like a tuning fork before a symphony. 

I breathe. 

The first set of red lights flashes. 5 rows of reds lights, then the green flash to begin. 

77 laps, 128 minutes. Inhale. Exhale. 

Second set of lights. I smell it again, pine and snow, but my eyes stay glued to the start light, like red suns setting above the asphalt surface. 

Third set of lights. My mind flashes to the pit crew, one stop. A tire change, softest for the final leg of the race. They’ll be done in 25 seconds. 

Fourth set of lights and I smell that heady scent again. My mind flashes, I see a snow covered forest. I can’t help it my head tilts and my eyes flick to Kylo Ren, in the first position. 

He starts, wheels steaming with friction as they launch him across the track, green lights reflecting on his black and chrome helm.

I’m already behind. 

……….

 

I think I blacked out. 

I’m in the pit, team whirling around me. My legs are shaking, my arms are shaking. I feel as though the only chemical in my body is adrenaline, high on a drug of my own making. 

I realize Connix is speaking into my ear. 

“Sorry, what” 

“Soft tires on, Phasma hasn’t taken her stop, makeup time on the next lap and you’ll be able to slip past her. 22 laps left you got this scavenger” 

The word has offended me in the past, but now I realize it's Connix’s way of letting me know she realizes who is behind the wheel of BB8, without risk of being overheard in the pit or on the radio channels. I smile beneath the helmet. 

“Thanks Lieutenant” 

Then it’s done and my feet are back on the pedals, the city becoming a kaleidescope of color while the track overtakes my vision and I’m back, asphalt disappearing behind me.

………….

 

My wheels cross the finish line at the beginning of the final lap 2.4 seconds after Kylo Ren. I’ve been on his bumper since surpassing Phasma during her pit stop. The rest of the field has fallen far behind. There is only so much the First Orders drivers can do this late in the race, and their best bet for a win is letting Kylo hold me off on his own. 

The descent is steep and curving, and I know to let him stay ahead. If I pull forward now he will have the rest of the lap to surpass me. I bide my time, crowding him into corners and pulling up so my front bumper is parallel with his rear tires but never gaining more.

This lap is more of a dance than a race, two drivers trapped in an endless routine. One steps forward while the other steps back. We trade leads like partners, synchronized through turns and curves. 

The surface level stretches come up, the shift from descent to flat road feels like a plane taking off at our current speeds of over 300 km per hour. I grit my teeth and accelerate, silently thanking BB8 for being the best car I’ve ever driven. I see now why Poe is so attached to him. 

I don’t make the mistake of glancing at ren as we head through the straight away, ahead are two hairpin turns separated by the longest straight of the race before a steep and mildly banking street leads us up to the finish line. If there is a chance of making a move into first and blocking Kylo out its now. 

On the first turn I spin out, gaining incrementally on Kylo as I have the entire lap, so the nose of BB8’s fuselage is slightly ahead of Kylo’s rear wheels. We accelerate together. Perfectly synchronized. The second turn approaches, but we are still adjacent, the road slightly too narrow for us both to easily make the turn. We move into the bank and he slows. 

I accelerate. 

I nearly slam into the sand filled bucket barrier, but miraculously BB8 grips the road, and we pull ahead of Kylo. I swear I hear his engine roar in response but its drowned out by the absolute explosion of cheering from the crowded streets of the surface district. 

I remember the people, with their dirty clothes and worn down neighborhood, how I saw people sporting old Rebel Alliance apparel and the masses that were convening before the race today. Their cheers are so loud I can’t even hear BB8. It's a moment of pure human ecstasy, of triumph and hope overcoming the crushing odds that unfairness inflicts on us. 

I scream into my helmet, filled with pure, unbridled Joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update tomorrow! Let me know what you think! 
> 
> Also in case you missed it, Rey does not know stranger=Kylo   
> OR Kylo=Ben solo. How’s that for dramatic irony?
> 
> P.S. I love feminist Han


	5. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I got a flat tire yesterday and realized I don’t even know how to put a spare on, but here I am, writing a fic about formula 1. Keep that in mind as you read this ;)_

The crowd at the finish line is less enthusiastic. 

The stands are filled with the black and white of First Order apparel, and their polite applause sounds like crickets on a summer night, the type of sound that only fills a silence. 

The adrenaline leaves me in a rush. 

I suddenly feel sick. I look up, for the first time taking stock of where BB8 came to a stop. The podium is a little behind where we sit, and already track workers are walking towards me carrying cases of champagne. Connix is sprinting towards my spot, practically shoving race officials to get to me first. She looks deranged. 

I undo my restraints, body suddenly feeling sore after several hours in the cramped position required to pilot an F1 car. The sensitive spot between my shoulder blade throbs, and I feel a thick layer of sweat coating my body beneath my orange tracksuit. 

Large hands grab me, pulling me out of my seat by the fabric of my suit. I hit the ground awkwardly and fall on my ass, legs like jello from after their cramped position in the race. 

Kylo Ren towers over me. 

“I’m going to kill you for that stunt Dameron,” he growls. 

His scent spikes the air, like snow on pines but tinged with an acrid tang, like the forest I see in my minds eye is burning. Its anger, creeping into his scent. 

My body reacts before my mind does and I recoil, that deep instinctual fear all Omegas hold of violent Alphas causing every hair on my body to stand on end. My own scent surges in response, despite the Emergency suppressant I took before the race, as if it is screaming _I’m Omega, don’t hurt me, I’m Omega_. I realize what’s happening I am scrambling to my feet and sprinting away, anywhere that isn’t near the angry Alpha behind me, and my traitorous scent. 

I run from the crowds of people approaching our vehicles, towards a small door that leads to the locker rooms. The minute I am out of sight of the track I rip off Poe’s helmet, while simultaneously tearing off the driving gloves and unzipping the tracksuit. I strip, shoving the evidence of my impersonation into his locker, then standing there clad only in my underwear and a tank top. 

I hear the door open. 

I scramble, walking deeper into the locker room to avoid whoever has entered the space. I slip into one of the showers, pulling the curtain taut behind me. I try to muffle my breathing, which is labored and painfully loud in the silence. 

I turn on the shower. 

Ice cold water spurts over me, soaking the parts of my hair that weren’t already plastered to my body from the sweat of racing. I’m still in my tank top and underwear, but I don’t care. I need to cool off, I need to get the stench of Omega off my skin long enough to make a hasty exit from the pits. I need to escape. 

I can hear whoever came in walking, their footfalls like the staccato beat of a drum as they search through the various cubbies which contain each drivers possessions.

The steps pause and I exhale. 

The shower curtain slaps to the side in front of me. 

It’s the stranger, the one who I yelled at on the balcony, who I raced with through the streets of Coruscant’s underbelly in the _Millenium Falcon_. 

He hovers there, black racing suit slightly unzipped, as if he had ripped it open to give himself more air. I can see his chest expanding with each deep breath he takes. His pupils are so blown they appear black. 

“You’re an Omega” he says, voice soft. It doesn’t sound like a question, or even an accusation. I flick my eyes up to meet his, my head still tilted back against the cool embrace of tile. 

We stand there for a minute, me with my back pressed against the tile shower wall, the smooth feel of ceramic singing my boiling skin, reaching from my feet all the way up to my shoulders, my entire body pressed as far away from him as possible. The the only thing keeping me grounded in the moment is the wall’s cold feel, the water falling like rain between us. 

“Surprise” I say, but my voice is hoarse and cracks. 

“Waiting for your Alpha, Dameron, to come fuck you after his half assed stunt back there? He could’ve killed me, what with the way he was driving”

I can’t help it, a laugh trickles out of my mouth. It echoes beneath the stream of water like the taunting of a vengeful spirit. It is not a nice sound. 

“Take a whiff _Alpha_ ” I say, my gravelly voice dropping to a strained whisper. He steps forward almost involuntarily when I address him by his distinction. A thrill goes through me at that, at the idea that some baser part of him can’t help but move towards me, like a planet sucked into the gravity of a star. “Do I smell like Poe Dameron to you?”

I step off the wall, so I’m fully beneath the stream of cool water. We are inches apart now, my face parallel with his chest. I step forward. Slowly, ever so slowly reaching up with my hand until I touch his clavicle, the closest exposed skin to my grip. I breathe deeply, not even trying to hide the way I scent him. 

Snow.

Falling on pines. 

An entire forest beneath the light of a dying sun flashes through my mind.

A crack, and I look down. The chrome and black helm of Kylo Ren slightly twisting where it was dropped on the shower floor.

“Kylo” I exhale, eyes still trained on the chrome and black helmet. Two syllables slipping out and into place, like a puzzle coming together. The sound conveys so little in comparison to the truth that is in front of me. This is the man who I fought with on the balcony, who raced me when I needed escape. He knew then, who I was. Our lives have been on a collision course, since before I sped past him mere moments ago.

Did he know then, who I was when I pulled the same move passing him on the track? Does he realize that I am the one who beat him, not Poe? 

Would he care, if he did?

“Rey,” He says and heat floods my body, pooling in my core and licking up my limbs. I feel the tell-tale heat between my thighs, accompanied by a sensation of wetness that has nothing to do with the shower still running over my head. I am so hot that I can’t believe I’m not steaming, a fiery steel that needs to be tempered, a burning beacon of self immolation desperate to be put out. 

I do the only thing I can. I lean forward and press my lips into the skin where my fingers still rest. 

That’s all it takes, and he is bending over, crushing his lips to mine for the briefest of seconds, before opening his mouth and skimming teeth down my neck. The sensation is unlike anything I have ever felt before, possessive and hot and dangerous. Our scents mingle beneath the rush of water, and again I find myself against the wall. I thread my arms around his shoulders, nails digging into the thick material of his drivers suit. His gloves feel rough on my arms, and I whimper in frustration. 

I thought that I needed to be cooled, that I needed someone to take the heat and siphon it away from my body before there was nothing left. But I realize now, as I slide my hands into his tracksuit, desperate to touch as much as I can that I didn’t need that. 

I needed someone to burn. 

Every sense is attuned to this moment, I can’t see, can’t think, can’t feel beyond where Kylo’s skin touches mine, on my lips, where his gloved hands dig into my waist, the crush of his body against mine. It feels consuming to the Omega in me, wholly focused on the specimen of raw Alpha power.

And then he is gone. Pushing himself back from me roughly, the sudden absence of his body makes the shower that much colder, the flash of lights blindingly bright. 

_Wait, why are the lights flashing?_

It takes me a minute to come back to myself, to extricate my rational mind from my animal body, and when I do I can only bury my face in my hands. 

Kylo stands in front of me, his oversized Alpha body blocking most of me from view. If men had hackles his would be raised, and I think if he wasn’t afraid of the reporters and photographers in front of him recording it he would be snarling. Kaydel Connix stands there, a look of abject horror on her face as she holds the shower curtain to the side. A mass of reporters trying to cram into the shower with her and Kylo and I. 

And I’m soaking wet, in my underwear. 

 

…………..

 

To say it went viral would be the understatement of the century. 

No Millenia. Or maybe even Eon. It might be the most talked about piece of gossip in the history of the Galaxy. 

A secret Omega, and an Alpha driver. 

No that’s not really what made it so unbelievable, so wildly inappropriate that everyone is discussing it, from racers to gossip columnists to the New Alderaan Times running a front page story--complete with FULL PAGE picture of me in my underwear-- this is much, much worse. 

They think I’m Poe’s Omega, and I was having a secret affair with Kylo Ren. 

Ha ha.

Ha ha ha ha ha.

It’s not like anyone would believe the truth anyway. An Omega beating Kylo Ren in the Coruscant Grand Prix? 

Then practically mounting him in the showers?

 _now that’s just a fantasy_

I should be embarrassed, and on some higher level of functioning I am. But I don’t give myself time to think about that, mostly because I am distracted by the blinding, all consuming rage. 

_I really should have been born an Alpha, at least then I’d have an excuse for the unyielding anger._

I drive laps around the dirt track back at the Garage at all hours of the day and night, and I’ve crashed more than a few outdated racers. Han returned with us, and he and Leia have been sharing secret phone calls which always seem to end whenever I enter a room. I can’t bring myself to be upset with Leia about it, but I don’t know Han, and his relaxed nature ends up taking the brunt of my rage. 

“What do you mean I can’t drive the Falcon anymore!” I scream, punctuated by throwing the wrench I have in my hand so hard against the garage wall it chips the cement. He drove me all the way back to the garage at Rebel Alliance Racing the minute I escaped the locker room and the gaggle of reporters that had gathered there. I still haven’t seen Leia, Poe or the rest of the pit crew. They had to stay behind to attend the Finishers Gala, and ostensibly perform some damage control. 

“Hey kid, I know you’re mad but you’ve gone through enough racers this week that I don’t want you anywhere near my car” he says “It might seem like the world is ending now, but it will pass”

“It’ll pass?” I want to scream, but this comes out as a high pitched screech, and even I can hear how distraught I sound. “Have you ever had your picture on every single piece of media, while they talk about completely untrue, blasphemous story!”

“Actually, I have. It may have been even worse than this”

This makes me pause. I’m not exactly versed in pop culture, but I think I would’ve heard about this.

He takes my pause as an invitation to elaborate. I don’t stop him, sitting down on a stool, as he leans against the hood of the Falcon. 

“Back before Leia and I were a” he chooses his next word carefully, and I can practically see him flipping through his mental lexicon for the right word “thing, there was another guy. Anyway when we were mated and had Ben on the way it came out that they had been together, and lets just say it was very taboo. Press had a field day, couldn’t believe it, tried to paint Leia as some villain.”

“What did she make out with Luke or something” I scoff, really _nothing_ Leia Organa did would illicit the reaction I received. She _is_ a princess. 

“Actually--”

“No, you’re joking” I say, equal parts unsettled and entertained. Leia and Luke? I can’t imagine Luke being even remotely attractive, the guy is an old hermit whose current daily activities include fishing at his deserted beach house and trying to start an organic Manatee Milk farm. 

“Luke wasn’t always that way, after Ben he never really recovered. He didn’t want anything to do with racing anymore”

I know that, the guy doesn’t even have a car at his house. Poe told me that drove the one he arrived at the house with into the Ocean, and hasn’t left since. 

Like I said, man’s a bit odd. 

We sit there in silence, Han lost in his thoughts, and me too afraid to speak and break the spell his words have cast. Leia _never_ speaks about their son, and everything I know about him I’ve gleaned from second or third hand sources. 

But here is Han, the other half of the mysterious enigma that is Ben Solo. I know his relationship with Leia is strained, but it isn’t the gaping hole like the one left by Ben. Han’s absence was the effect of his departure, not the cause. 

“Ben was angry too. I was never sure what did it to him, and I’ve told Luke off for it. He could never let it go though, he couldn’t stand failure, and not for one second could he accept that he wasn’t the best. I think it was the weight of all those names. Organa, Solo, Skywalker, Amidala. We gave him a lineage of people revered like gods, and he could never accept that we were really just mortals who were in the right place at the wrong time. That it wasn’t some cosmic force that made legends out of us, but luck”

He stands up, placing his hand on my shoulder as he goes to leave the garage, I’m still breathing hard, the angry beast inside me only pacified, not smothered. 

“Just try to remember the light Rey, life is too short to live in darkness”

…….

 

The rest of the team decides to go straight to Canto Bight. The damage control took too long, and the realization that I will not be their Pit Leader ever again has finally settled in. They need to practice, to get used to Keydal’s leadership. Plus with the trucks that carry BB8 and R2 they’ll have to take a cargo ship to the island of Canto Bight, and that takes time. 

Finn and Poe return, the latter of which I studiously avoid. I do my work in garage in the early hours of the morning, and spend my days driving the old junk cars I fix up until they break down or I crash them into the sand barriers surrounding the miles and miles of track. 

Its after I crash a beater a good 20 KM away from the garage that I finally see Finn. 

He pulls up slowly, his practice racer going almost comically slow considering the average speed it operates at. 

“You want to talk about it?”

“No”

I don’t think I’ll ever want to talk about. Kissing Kylo Ren was a moment of weakness that left my entire life in pieces around me like a broken mirror. Even if I can put it back together, my reflection will never be the same. 

And I had won. 

That’s the part that feeds the beast inside my chest, the fire that never stops burning, that uses happiness and sadness both as kindling. It consumes everything else, and I like it that way. 

I would rather be angry than some sad, broken thing. 

“Poe wants to talk to you”

“Then he can talk to me himself”

“You’ve been avoiding him” 

“I am avoiding everyone”

“But him more than most”

I don’t respond. 

“You know he hasn’t come looking for you because he feels bad about that whole thing at the hotel” Poe says, his voice dropping even though there is no one for miles. “He still feels terrible”

“Well that makes 2 of us” I’m still walking, and Finn is still driving slowly beside me. We must make for an odd picture. 

“He isn’t mad about Kylo, he just wants to talk to you. He wants to know how you’re doing”

“How I’m doing? 2 weeks ago I was a pit leader, since then I’ve presented as an Omega, been borderline assaulted by my best friend, won the Coruscant Grand Prix and been caught up in the scandal to end all scandals. Oh and I lost my job and entire career. How does he think I’m doing?” I know that I’m not mad at Finn, and I’m not mad at Poe either, but I can’t hide the vitriol from my voice. 

“That's why he is so worried about you, Rey. We all are. Everyone here has had hard times, and we want to be here, to help you” I stop walking and he stops his vehicle. He pops out of the seat and comes to stand beside me. “I got third in the Grand Prix you know” 

He says it without preamble, which makes the guilt that climbs through my rage even more painful. A week has passed since Coruscant and I never even checked his standings. If I’m being honest with myself I just assumed he finished at the bottom of the field. Plus all the news surrounding the race was accompanied by the world's most embarrassing series of photos of me in my underwear, undergoing the most public walk of shame of all time. 

“Finn, that’s great. You’ll be in an even better position to help Poe in the Galaxy Cup.” 

I can’t even feign enthusiasm. I am happy for Finn, I really am, but all I can think about is the feeling I had when I surpassed Kylo Ren. How it felt to practically fly through the course, to cross the finish line and know that I had _won_.

He places a hand on my arm. I glare at it. 

“Just, promise me you’ll talk to Poe. Tonight”

“What so we can compare conquests? How was your rut Poe, did you manage to find a nice enough stranger to fuck through it? Oh and by the way, I made out with your nemesis in a shower after I impersonated you and won a race, and now the three of us are front page news!”

“Poe went through his rut solo”

“Oh” That is unusual. In his past ruts he has always found a partner, and there definitely were willing Omegas in Coruscant.

“If he had been with anyone they would’ve put you at risk. As soon as you finished the race he locked himself away in his room. Said he would suffer through it on his own. Pretty sure he went through a few cases of bourbon, but he came out ok in the end” Finn isn’t trying to rub it in. He delivers the news with tact. It adds to the guilt that’s threatening to drown the angry flames.

“Good for him”

“Just promise me you’ll talk to him tonight, Rey.”

“Fine, I’ll talk to him. But only if you leave, I need to get back to walking.” 

Finn looks like he wants to say something, or yell something, but instead he clambers back into his racer, peeling out into the afternoon sun.

 

………..

 

I find Poe in the old Mon Calamari roadster that we turned into our own personal hideout in the scrap field. The yard is filled with the bodies of old racing cars, in various states of decay. It was my idea, a reminder of Jakku. I kept the old cars as they were slowly replaced by newer and faster models so we could salvage their specialty parts when tinkering and upgrading the racers. That and because I could never watch something that is still functional go to waste just because there was something better, there was a time when even the most corroded parts were all that kept me from starvation.

The roadster is sleek, and at one time may have been orange although that could just be the blossoming rust on its hood. The wheel and gearbox have been removed, so the worn leather bench seat has plenty of leg room. The engine was stripped long ago but the hood now hides 2 coolers that are usually filled with waiting beer cans, but tonight they sit empty like yawning graves. 

It’s the place where most of our drunken confessions have occurred. Whispered secrets beneath the moonlight, when we told ourselves we were too far gone to remember what forbidden words we exchanged in the honeyed night air.

I set a bottle of amber liquor between us. 

“I see you already tapped into your peace offering” He says by way of greeting. He’s right, the neck of the bottle is empty, and warmth fills my core from the liquor. 

“Thought you could use some”

“I think you’re using me as an excuse”

“Is that what you called me before I became an Omega? An excuse? That should be my new nickname, X-Cues” I flop down next to him, careful to leave plenty of space between us. He picks up the bottle. 

Empties it onto the thirsty dust below. 

“Hey—“

“Rey, I know you’ve been here for a week, throwing yourself the worlds biggest pity party, and I’m sorry about that” Oh no, this is monologue Poe. When he gets into motivational speaker territory with his talk of Heroes and Leaders. “I can’t change what happened. I’m sorry I did what I did. I truly am. I was out of my mind, and as much as I hate that I have to say it I’m happy I missed that race”

I must be hallucinating. Poe happy about anything other than winning a race?

“If I hadn’t been” _Horny? Overflowing with Alpha Pheromones? Desperate to fuck anything that moves?_ “incapacitated you never would have gotten on that track. You never would have won that Grand Prix. Holy Force Rey, your first race with a real competition field and you _won_. In Coruscant. That's the hardest race of the season! I watched, and I’ve watched the replays a dozen times. You were _phenomenal_. I’ve never seen anyone else drive like that”

“Well I hope you committed it to memory, because you never will again.”

He reaches over, resting his hand on my bicep. I think he was aiming for the least sexual place to touch me. “You deserve to be on the circuit. And not just in the pit, you should be on the track.”

I don’t have anything to say to that. I do deserve it, I always knew that inside me there was that capability, the speed and the confidence to be a racer. Now that I’ve been out there though, well there is no going back. Even if I hadn’t been publicly humiliated, I would never have been able to return to simply being a Pit Leader. I pick at a hole in the leather bench, and wonder if there is any more whiskey hidden somewhere in the roadsters nooks and crannies. 

“I always wanted to drive, but I was so afraid that if I did I would lose my place in all this. That they would ostracize me for having designs beyond my station, and I wouldn’t be able to fall back to being a Pit Leader. You know what it was like for me on Jakku” His hand squeezes mine at that. Poe saw me when I first arrived, malnourished and broken and incapable of understanding the generosity that was shown to me. I was practically feral. “It wasn’t worth the risk, the idea that I might have to go back to that. And then when I found out I am an Omega I just, stopped caring. I took risks. I raced in the streets of Coruscants, I screamed at any First Order officer who came within 5 meters of me.”

The tears come now leaving trails through the dust that has settled on my face, but my voice doesn’t waver. It is the first time I’ve cried since the incident. 

“I didn’t have anything to lose, but I’m just now realizing that all that time I was waiting around I had so much to gain. I could’ve been the first female beta driver. That was possible, difficult, but it could be done. Now what do I have Poe?”

“Rey you know that Leia—“

“Yes, I know Leia now, I know she would never kick me out. I am sure she will use her influence to get me set up somewhere, to make sure I have some semblance of a life, but I don’t want that. I want to race, I want to _**win**_.”

The last word is barely more than a whisper, a near silent confession into the night, as though I fear the stars and the skeletons of old cars will judge me.

“And Kylo Ren?”

I saw it coming, but it still knocks the wind out of me. 

“That was a mistake” I say, even as my entire body alights in the memory. It was a mistake, but still I feel weightless when I think about him. Not Kylo Ren the driver, but the stranger who I ran into again and again. There was something more there than just a First Order lackey. He is a mystery wrapped in the unknown. 

“Rey, I didn’t have Finn track you down just so we could talk about him” _yet here we are, talking about fraternizing with the enemy_ “Its over and done, and although I do hate that Kylo Ren what you do with your body is your business not mine”

“Thanks” Of course it’s my business, but somehow it’s nice to hear it, to know without a doubt that my best friend will support me, regardless of who I decide to be with, even if it’s his mortal enemy. 

“We needed to talk because I want you to take my spot in Canto Bight”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and thank you again for sticking with me through this story!
> 
> Sorry I missed my update goal yesterday, hopefully this slightly long chapter makes up for it!
> 
> Moving forward I will not be updating quite as frequently. My goal is 3 updates a week, and finishing this story by the end of June. 
> 
> As always please let me know what you think! I do really appreciate feedback and comments :)


	6. Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is slightly different formatting at the beginning of this chapter, I hope you enjoy the way I mixed things up. Let me know your thoughts or any ideas/critique you have in the comments. 
> 
> This formatting WILL be in the next chapter for narrative reasons, so if you hate it, well....

**Excerpt from Canto Bight Daily**  
**_Breaking News : Rey Jakkussen, Associate Of Kylo Ren and Former Pit Lead for Resistance Racing arrives in Canto Bight_**

_Rey Jakkussen, the former Pit Lead for the Resistance Racing arrived in Canto Bight without fanfare. Speculation from various Galactic Circuit insiders had indicated that Jakkussen would not be attending this years Cup Final, but Jakkussen arrived on a private aircraft late Thursday evening with her teammates Poe Dameron and Finn Toatesev. There are unconfirmed reports that the two other passengers on their flight manifest were racing legend Han Solo and his longtime mechanic Chewie. Although company manager Leia Organa and the newly promoted pit leader Kaydel Connix have been spotted at the Peninsula Hotel earlier in the week, Dameron, Toatesev and Jakkussen are reportedly staying at a private residence. Radio One Cantonica reported earlier today that Organa had RSVP’d with 6 attendees for this years charity casino event, benefiting Racing Council Speaker Snoke’s Knights of Reading, an organization which encourages literacy among underprivileged Alphas._

 

**Transcript of _Radio One Cantonica_ from Friday, 1 day prior to Canto Bight Cup Final. **

**DJ** : Gooooooood morning Canto Bight! This is DJ coming to you live from the City of Sin, it is 7 am and a balmy 34 degrees outside. This town is bustling with preparations for the Cup Final Saturday in what is sure to be the showdown of the century between Poe Dameron and Kylo Ren, the longtime rivals who recently found out they have more in common than they might have believed. I’ve got Bazine Netal, writer for the Page 6 of the New Alderaan Times here this morning to share her thoughts. 

**Bazine Netal:** Thanks for having me DJ. Have I got the scoop for you! Although Rey Jakkussen hasn’t been spotted since her sexy surprise shower photo shoot we have it on good authority that she arrived in Canto Bight for the race. Leia Organa, who usually watches with the other managers from the team lounge has reportedly purchased a private club level suite ahead of Saturday’s race, and we expect to see Rey watch from there. 

**DJ** : Any word on Kylo Ren? 

**Netal** : Well he hasn’t been taking the revelation of his identity very well. Ren has been spotted throughout Canto Bight over the past week, frequenting many high limit private gambling rooms and exclusive VIP clubs. He has had screaming matches with several fans who approached him after recognizing him from the New Alderaan Times photo story. Cell phone videos from various bystanders have captured the episodes and are currently circulating the internet.

**DJ** : We always knew he had a temper.

**Netal** : There are also some unsubstantiated rumors floating around that reportedly he has trashed his room at the Peninsula not once but twice after being asked when Miss Jakkussen is expected to arrive. 

**DJ** : Sounds like that Alpha has it bad, and who wouldn’t? I’ve never seen someone manage to pull off a tracksuit like Jakkussen does. I’m surprised it took everyone this long to find out she is an Omega!

**Netal** : Rey Jakkussen did win the San Tekka Award for Most Valuable Pit Team 2 years in a row DJ. She was an exceptional member of their crew, this loss will be a blow for Resistance Racing. 

**DJ** : Of course, of course. Can you believe it, an Omega in the Pit! I never thought I’d see the day. 

**Netal** : It is unbelievable that she went so long without being discovered. 

**DJ** : Yes, do you know if the Racing Council has come to a conclusion on whether disciplinary measures will be taken against Resistance Racing?

**Netal** : No official announcement has come forward, but we have had tips from individuals close to Snoke that the council is considering a lifetime ban of Leia Organa for her part in the duplicity. Poe Dameron will likely suffer a points deduction which would move him into the second position for the start of Saturday’s race, behind Ren despite his win in Coruscant.

**DJ** : My, my, my, that has to be disappointing after Dameron’s phenomenal performance, I must say I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a late lead change on that track. That’s the kind of driving we want to see! I have a feeling I Saturday’s race will be the showdown of a lifetime between two of the best drivers the Galaxy circuit has seen in a generation!

**Netal** : Oh, that’s guaranteed.

 

**Column published 11:34 pm Friday, on _Cantonica Tattle _Fashion and Gossip blog curated by _Lady Carise_ __**

**___First Order Fornicator a No-Show at Gala Benefiting Underprivileged Children, Kylo Ren Storms out minutes after being approached by Poe Dameron_ _ _ ** ____

___Well dear readers, have I got the deets for you! Tonight I was lucky enough to attend the Knights of Reading Gala, which always promises to be THE social event of the Canto Bight Cup Final. Despite the positively dreary red and black color scheme (seriously, whoever hired that event coordinator needs to be beheaded) the night was an absolute delight of steamy romances and heart-stopping drama. Kylo Ren made a brief appearance. He sported a black Valentino tux complete with a cape. Quite the daring fashion choice for a driver who spent so much time hiding his features from the world! The real excitement began of course when the Resistance finally showed up, although they did overstep from the realm of fashionably late to rude when they appeared right in the middle of Snoke’s welcome speech. Everyone completely disregarded what he was saying when they realized Leia Organa and crew had arrived. Organa looked positively ethereal in her classic white dress, this year a conservative number by Dior. Surprisingly she entered with her estranged mate, Han Solo, who of course could never compete with her fashion sense. In fact I didn’t even manage to find out who designed his outfit, although from the look of it I wouldn’t be shocked if he picked up that ensemble at Sears. Newcomer Finn was show-stopping in a photo negative style suit with white jacket and black shirt. When asked who the designer was he said ‘Myself’, although our fashion gurus here at the Tattle haven’t been able to reach the label for comment. Dameron adopted a more traditional formal look, and descended into the ballroom with Kaydel Connix on his arm, a shocking upset to the other attendees who had all been hoping for a glimpse of the now infamous Rey Jakkussen. His night started on an awkward foot after an altercation occurred with Kylo Ren upon taking his seat, that led to the First Order’s flagship racer knocking over one of the event’s ice sculptures before storming out. While I didn’t overhear the contents of their discussion directly, the entire venue was buzzing with reports that the subject had been the mysterious Rey. The scandalous Omega doesn’t seem to be ready to enter the limelight yet though, as she did not make an appearance at all night. As always, your source for Canto Bight’s most beautiful - Her Highness, Lady Carise._ _ _

___ _

___……….._ _ _

___ _

___I feel like a criminal._ _ _

___I am wearing street clothes, unremarkable tan pants and a light beige hoodie pulled up over my hair as I jog onto the dark track. Kaydel had said BB8 was gassed up and ready to go before she and Poe left our safe house to make an appearance at tonight’s gala._ _ _

___It was Leia’s idea, sneaking in some practice laps while the rest of the team made their first public appearance at Snoke’s event, ensuring that all eyes would be far away from the track. They will be the distraction, using the general uproar over my arrival on Canto Bight to keep attention on them, and away from any midnight test laps that might occur._ _ _

___I send a quick thank you text to Poe before slipping into BB8 and pulling onto the smooth road. The smell of asphalt is fresh, the track having been opened only days before. While other cities create routes through their existing streets Canto Bight elects to construct a new track every year. The majority of it is erected above the shallow waters of the bay. The pilings support the thin strip of pavement a few meters above the waves with only one stretch of track through the city that culminates in a heart stopping tunnel beneath one of the tropical mountains which enclose the city._ _ _

___My first lap is leisurely, and I allow myself to absorb the glittering city before me. Canto Bight is a den of vice and sin, an island paradise surrounded by crystalline waters so clear they have been known to induce vertigo. The long strip of land covered with ultra-luxurious casinos and hotels layered on top of each other and dusted with promenades and avenues. The glistening white cityscape is only disrupted by the green topped cliffs of the island’s natural geological structures. It is beautiful in a way that only poisonous things can be._ _ _

___I know that it is filled with people who contribute to the inequality like that which was so apparent in Coruscant. The casinos are filled with financiers and moguls whose fortunes will grow no matter how much they gamble away._ _ _

___I wish I could put my fist through this whole lousy, beautiful town._ _ _

___Instead I’ll just have to win._ _ _

___ _

___………….._ _ _

___ _

___The hour I allocated for practice passes by too quickly. I manage to get a feel for the course, for what turns to look out for and where the track doesn’t quite bank at the correct angle, but I don’t feel confident. I couldn’t drive at a full, race speed, given that the track was dark and racars don’t have headlights._ _ _

___The track is more difficult than years past, with natural bottlenecks occurring on turns that will be vital to split times. The effect will be a condensed field, with little opportunity to gain a large lead. It won’t be like Coruscant, where all that stood between me and the podium was Kylo Ren. This race I will be fighting every driver on the track, every minute of the way._ _ _

___I pull BB8 into the resistance berth at the pit, but I don’t jump out immediately. I take a moment to sit and appreciate the space. Connix has a little bobble head that she keeps in her locker for good luck, and Jessika writes chalk words of luck and fortune in Aurebesh on the tires. Every individual’s headsets are plastered with stickers of their favorite old racing teams, like Fett Industries and Empire Tires. I wonder if they’ve all realized that I was the one who raced in Coruscant, if they are upset that I concealed my Omega distinction from them. I suddenly feel a crushing guilt._ _ _

___They trusted me, and I deceived them. And I’m about to once more._ _ _

___I peel myself out of BB8, intent on finding a way to leave them a message, an indication that I wish them the best when I feel a prickle of sensation._ _ _

___Someone is here._ _ _

___I scramble to pull my hood back over my head, my profile having been momentarily exposed after removing Poe’s helmet. I duck behind the carefully arranged tires, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever was spying on me._ _ _

___The figure that enters our area is reedy and thin, a shock of orange hair contrasting the sallow looking skin that seems so pale it is nearly translucent. He moves with a purposeful stride, a canister of something in his grip._ _ _

___He walks up to R2, he seems unfamiliar with the race cars, searching for something that he can’t find._ _ _

___I smell something sweet in the air._ _ _

_____Sugar_ I realize with a start. __He is trying to put sugar in our tanks_ _ _ _ __

___It would be a whole engine blowout, the entire mechanical systems would be replaced. We of course have an extra engine on hand, but it would be painstakingly difficult to fix this close to the race. It might even eliminate us from competition._ _ _

___If I reveal myself though they will know that I was at the track, in the Pit where I am banned for life. Already our plan was walking a delicate line, my track time had to occur exactly when Poe departed the gala, as surely someone would eventually realize that BB8 had been driving laps in the middle of the night, and Poe Dameron certainly couldn’t be in two places at once. Regardless of who is actually driving, taking practice laps on the track outside of sanctioned hours is an infraction. Poe has already dropped from the top start position, no deduction could push him into third._ _ _

___If this stranger catches me our whole house of cards will come drifting down._ _ _

___If he sabotages our engines we might not be able to race._ _ _

___I jump up just as the canister is being tilted into the tank when the redhead gets slammed into the cement._ _ _

___“What are you doing Hux” comes a growl that I definitely recognize._ _ _

____shit shit shit_ _ _ _

____You-Know-Who, in the flesh._ _ _ _

___“I am acting on our Supreme Leader’s orders, Ren” The readhead—Hux— replies. His voice is surprisingly nasally. “I think the real question is why you are sulking around. I’ve already been informed that your performance at the gala was… dramatic.”_ _ _

___“What I do is none of your concern”_ _ _

___“Snoke wants the BB unit taken care of. He doesn’t want to leave this up to chance”_ _ _

___“Then he wouldn’t have sent you”_ _ _

___“Fine Ren, but its your head, not mine when this is over” The redhead stumbles off._ _ _

___I’ve been holding my breath since Kylo arrived._ _ _

___“You can come out now Rey” He says, voice quiet now that Hux is out of earshot._ _ _

____double shit_ _ _ _

___He already knows I’m here, and my mind flies through the lies I could spin. He must know BB8 was out, the tires are probably still warm. I stand, wiping my palms on the coarse fabric of my pants before shoving them deep into my pockets._ _ _

___“How’d you know I was here”_ _ _

___“I could find your scent from a 100 meters away.” He says, turning around once Hux is fully out of sight. “But I knew you were here before I saw Hux poking around.”_ _ _

___It hangs in the air, the truth feels like chord between us, one that’s about to snap._ _ _

___“I wanted to be here, one last time” I whisper, stepping forward, R2 sits before him and I’ve never been happier to have a physical barrier, however insignificant, between an Alpha and myself. Even if I’m not sure that it’s him I’m afraid of._ _ _

___“Don’t lie to me.” He replies._ _ _

___His eyes bore into mine, in the dark light they seem black. He moves around, trying to get closer to me, but for ever step he takes forward, I take one back._ _ _

___We orbit the car like satellites, and I know somewhere deep in my mind that my traitorous body does this on purpose. With each step I retreat his urge to give chase grows stronger, his need greater._ _ _

___“You’re not allowed to be in the pits.” he practically growls. It should scare me, but doesn’t “No Omegas.”_ _ _

___A smile turns my lips, I’ve never felt this, this desire to torment. My heart jumps at the anger in his words, as if some part of me that lay long dormant has woken up. I say it, the truth that lies between us, the secret I thought I would keep from him more than anyone else. “But there is no rule against us driving.”_ _ _

___The silence speaks the words that he doesn’t need to say. I move forward, reversing the direction of our dance as Ren remains rooted to the spot. When I’m close enough that our chests are nearly touching I reach up and push the slightly overgrown hair away from his face. The moonlight plays tricks on his skin, he looks like a man made entirely of shadow._ _ _

___“Goodbye, Rey” He says, turning to leave. But I catch his arm, my small hand stopping him despite how much larger he is. He doesn’t pull away but he doesn’t move either._ _ _

___“You won’t tell them, will you?”_ _ _

___“Tell them what, that you were in the Pits despite your ban, or that you decided to take BB8 out for a joy ride?”_ _ _

___I can’t respond, can’t do anything but try to capture the anger that grows in my chest. I won’t let him out me, won’t let him keep me from this. I realize that I had hoped he knew, wished in my secret heart that he had seen what I am capable of, but now I’m afraid he will prevent me from finishing what I started in Coruscant._ _ _

___“Or that you were the one who won in Coruscant, and that you are planning on racing again tomorrow?”_ _ _

___I rage._ _ _

___“I want to” he says, oblivious to the fiery monster he has awoken within me, “I also want to push you up against the wall and have you, right here. But I won’t do that either”_ _ _

___The words send a jolt to my core, I remove my hand like I’ve been shocked even as the part of my body wakes up, his words like an alarm against my skin. I’m not touching him anymore but somehow our bodies are even closer, leaning into each other while keeping the slightest of distances, like when I used to run my fingers through candle flames._ _ _

___“You could. You could take anything you want from me” I want him to, oh how I want him to. I can practically feel his hands digging into my skin, feel his body against mine. I stretch my neck, my body suddenly feeling too exposed and not open enough all at once, even as that voice in my mind screams ‘ _traitor, he is the enemy, he is the scion of everything in this world that claims Alphas are superior. He is Kylo Ren_ ’. _ _ _

___“How did you know it was me?”_ _ _

___He looks at me, eyes finally peering out from the shadows to meet mine. I feel _seen_ by him, like he looks at me the same way as I was regarded before I presented, like I am just another person. Maybe to some it would be disappointing, to not have their counterpart see some hidden goddess, but to me it is a gift. He takes a breath, reaching down to entwine his hands with mine. It's simple, slow to warm and nothing like the fire we shared the last time we met, the fire that burns inside me still. I don’t pull away. _ _ _

___ _

___His words start with a stutter, and then all at once._ _ _

___“I remember your first day in the Pit. The first race when Leia pulled you up from tinkering with racers and put you in the bullpen. I think you were 17 or 18, and I thought _Another one of Leia’s pet projects_. It was in Naboo, at their Festival of Light race. You were so serious, even when it was over you never smiled. You picked up every tool like it was some sacred weapon, didn’t discard anything. I remember so clearly when someone went to throw out the spent tires you made them get them back, talking about how you could use them for some project or another. I thought you looked like some warrior queen, bathed in the light from a thousand floating lanterns above the track.”_ _ _

___“After that I stayed away from you, but we crossed paths every once in a while. We would run into each other at an event, or both be standing near each other after a race, and I would _smell_ you. You didn’t recognize me, no one did because of the mask I hid behind, the helm of Kylo Ren, but I always felt it when you entered a room. Your voice seemed to be the only one I could hear even if everyone else around me was talking. I always thought you were an Omega, but no one else seemed to notice. I figured you were taking a heavy dose of suppressants to keep your position in the Pit. I didn’t want to be the one to out you”_ _ _

___“Then in Tatooine something changed. I couldn’t help but walk over to you and Poe, like some invisible anchor weighed me down to you. I felt the Alpha in me bristle when Poe was near, felt the way his scent spiked when he wrapped his arm around you and I lost it. I wanted to kill him, to choke the air out of his lungs, and then you were pulling him away and I was mortified. I knew it was all over, that however you’d managed to hide your distinction would no longer work, your scent was no longer a soft and fleeting thing, it was screaming what you were Omega loud and clear.”_ _ _

___“Ever since that day I’ve felt unhinged. I couldn’t get your scent out of my nose, even when I was nowhere near you. Then in Coruscant I saw you wearing that ridiculous dress while you watched Poe was dancing and drinking. You seemed so sad, so alone and that was how I felt, when I presented.”_ _ _

___“I couldn’t sleep after the gala that night, not when Poe had so carelessly pushed that Omega in your face. Every time I closed my eyes I heard your words on repeat— ‘Don’t you have a sister, a Mother?’. I felt awful, terrible that you had to be the one who made me realize how unfair this world is to Omegas like you, how I’ve spent so long oblivious and contributing to it by the very nature of my own passivity. I wanted to forget, to put you and your words out of my mind. So I decided to drive”_ _ _

___He pauses, a deep, shuddering breath going through his chest._ _ _

___“I saw the _Millenium Falcon_ , I had to follow. Then when I pulled up next that silver piece of junk and rolled down the window, ready to yell and scream and take out my anger. It was you, because _of course_ it was you, who else would manage to find that car after it had been missing for years.” Something whispers in the back of my mind, at his mention of the _Falcon_ , but I’m too consumed, too engrossed in the telling of this tale to give it much thought. “So we raced, and the Eravana pulled up and I couldn’t stay, couldn’t bear to be exposed. The next morning I didn’t think anything of Poe showing up late, I should’ve realized. I just assumed he smelled like you because you had finally been together, and I thought that was a it. It was over and done, and you’d be with him. His mate.”_ _ _

___“And then we raced” My voice surprises me, its soft timber interrupting his baritones like a wind chime in a tornado._ _ _

___“Yes, we raced. Deep down I knew it was you, saw it in each lap, in every turn and block and pass. I saw your face every time I caught the scent of lilac or sand on the wind, but I told myself that it couldn’t be. You were an Omega, you wouldn’t put yourself at risk like that.” Kylo turns now, and his large hands rest on my cheeks, pulling my eyes into his gaze like he needs me to see him for every word that is about to be said “ And then you beat me, nearly ran yourself off the road with that turn and I thought for sure whoever was in that car would crash, and all I could do was convince myself that it was Dameron, that you would be safe in the Pit. After the race I thought I would kill Poe, kill him because of the pain he would have put you through if he was your mate and he died.”_ _ _

___“And then you chased me into the bathroom”_ _ _

___“I didn’t realize it was you” he says, the fervor leaving his voice and his words finally slowing down. “I thought I was following Poe. I was a man possessed. I couldn’t stand the idea that Poe would do that to you. Then when you were there I couldn’t control myself, couldn’t stay away”_ _ _

___He doesn’t need to say the rest of the story. The shower, the photos, the shocked look on Connix’s face._ _ _

___“So what now, did you come here to use your Alpha voice to force me to stay home. Afraid a girl will beat you, again?” I say it even as my body refuses to move. I want to run, to get out of earshot of this villain who could take all I’ve worked for away from me with a word._ _ _

___“Rey” he says, the strange double timber creeping into his voice._ _ _

___Every muscle in my body stops, I don’t breathe, I can’t even break eye contact. I am prey caught by the predator._ _ _

___He leans forward his his lips brush my forehead, my neck. Not quite enough to be a kiss, just the brush of skin, the barest suggestion of touch. I feel familiar fire licking through my veins._ _ _

___“What do you want” He says. The command is still there, this is not a question. It is a demand._ _ _

___I want to kiss him, I want to wrap my arms around him and be carried off to some dark den and never leave. I want to be his._ _ _

___“Leave” I say instead. “Stay away from me”_ _ _

___I think I did burn him, that I finally managed to call on that fire that has burned me to ash since I first kissed Kylo Ren._ _ _

___He steps back, and though I ache at the absence I feel cool for the first time in weeks. I need to breathe, to go home and push Kylo Ren from my mind. I need to race so that I forget all about the feeling of our bodies so close to each other, the feeling that it will never be enough._ _ _

___“Goodbye Rey” He says. I don’t watch him leave, even though the sound of his footsteps beats like a drum in my brain._ _ _

___I stand there for a long time the moon and asphalt my only companions. My body aches, and my heart feels like lead in my chest._ _ _

___I tell myself that it will be worth it, that in a few short hours I will stand on this track as myself._ _ _

___I am Rey from Jakku, and I plan to win._ _ _

___ _

___ _

___._ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was definitely inspired by a scene in A Court of Mist and Fury by SJ Maas. If you haven’t read it, go do it. Its the original O/B/A fan fiction ;)


	7. Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!
> 
> I have several things to point out here. There is a slight allusion to drugging drinks in this chapter (don’t worry, its not rey or any of our character being drugged) if this could be triggering for you skip the paragraph after the line that says “So I cheated”
> 
> If you didn’t already surmise this, I am taking **LIBERTIES** with the reality of racing to make this story (like, in no possible universe would a city build a track on a bridge, and if you’re interested, my idea for that was inspired by 7 mile bridge in the Florida Keys). Basically nothing that happens in this chapter would be allowed to happen in a real race. Just a disclaimer.
> 
> Also please note I updated the tags on this fic. I added one tag for dubious concent, which is referring to the events of chapter 3. To clarify in that chapter Poe just pushes Rey up against the wall and nuzzles her, but I understand that this could be misinterpreted/triggering as the writing is rather ambiguous. I also added the slow burn tag and eventual smut because I think a lot of people are assuming that since this is in an A/B/O universe the characters are going to get freaky all the time, and unfortunately thats just not in the trajectory of this story. It will happen, but not yet ;) If you think I need to update any tags please feel free to reach out to me on tumblr (amelnovitsky). Be warned that I am completely new to tumblr and basically have no idea what’s going on, but I figured this would be a good way for people to anonymously contact me. 
> 
> This chapter is definitely different than past chapters, which I will discuss a little more in the end notes. Thanks for reading!

I always wanted to fly. 

It is my first real memory, besides being left behind with Unkar Plutt.

I was small, and lying in an old truck bed in the far reaches of Plutt’s domain. I remember seeing a plane, some military jet, do a fly-by overhead. The sound scared me until I saw the sparkling underbellies of the craft, the way they didn’t so much as pause as they passed over his kingdom of trash. I was consumed with a terrible feeling, one I would later learn to recognize as desire. I wanted to be fast and free and far above my prison of metal and scrap like the metal birds above me.

But planes are hard to come by, and for a girl in a junkyard there are other ways to fly.

The first thing I fixed was a motorbike. It was a small and compact sports-model, one made for children that barely went faster than a pedal bike. I found the cracked cylinder and then spent weeks combing the abandoned machines for a replacement. I was so happy when the engine finally coughed and sputtered to life I that I forgot I didn’t know how to drive the thing. 

I learned. 

I stayed with bikes until I was around 13, when I began to be able to pass as old enough to enter the street races run by the Nikto Cartel. Then I fixed cars. At first I never won, I came in last or my beat up scrap cars didn’t finish the race. I simply couldn’t compete with anyone who had even a few credits to spend on their vehicles, I spent every cent I earned at Plutt’s just to feed myself. 

The first time I showed up with a motorcycle they tried to turn me away. 

Bikes were more common at Plutt’s junkyard than cars, and easier to modify with the materials available to me. I could supercharge their engines, strip all excess weight so they sped past the cars on the sandy track. But the races were dominated by sleazy men in cars that had been stolen or lost in bets or collected in lieu of debts. They told me to get lost.

I screamed, they threatened. Eventually a blaster model rifle was pointed at my face. I left. 

The next day I went to their race, bike in tow. I stood among the spectators as they shot the Blaster into the sky and the cars took off. 

A minute later I followed. 15 minutes after that I won. 

Then I kept winning. 

……

**Transcript of the live broadcast by Norris Wexley and Wedge Antilles, 9:54 AM Saturday May 20, Day of the Grand Prix**

**Wexley** : There are 6 minutes until race time and its seems like the First Order is putting in for a last minute scratch. 

**Antilles** : That is quite odd, this late in pre-race and they won’t be able to substitute another driver. This could be a major setback for their strategy given Finn Toatesev and Poe Dameron’s adjacent positioning. 

**Wexley** : From our position in the press box we can see Snoke, he seems quite irate at the entire situation. He is calling on the racing council to convene an emergency session to delay the start of the race. 

**Antilles** : Even for him that seems a little biased. It doesn’t look like the council is in agreement though. 

**Wexley** : We are getting reports that the race will continue as scheduled, no delay will be accepted. 

…..

Rain on a race day is always a bad omen. 

The pit crews switched the tires, but still I feel uneasy. The storm itself passed this morning, but the waves still crash dissonantly like notes that can’t reach a harmony. The atmosphere on the track is tense. Drivers go through the motions of their pre race rituals with none of the practiced stoicism I have come to expect. I think Phasma might kill a stormtrooper for not properly cleaning her lens. 

Something feels off. 

There is no glaring error, but the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and my entire body feels like a muscle pulled too tight. 

I’m halfway to BB8 when I am pulled by from my reverie by something the announcers are saying. A name which I think some vengeful god has cursed me to always hear.

“Kylo Ren has scratched from the race, this close to the start time there will be no opportunity to substitute their lineup. This is really quite the unusual start to the day, but longtime rival Poe Dameron should be happy. The cup is practically in his grasp!”

Kylo Ren scratched? 

I am so distracted by the news that I don’t even notice Phasma until the Alpha is before me, bristling with nearly uncontrollable rage. 

“Don’t think this means you have a shot, Dameron. The First Order will never let you take this cup.” 

The posturing should upset me, but I’m too distracted, too off balance to even make sense of it I. Why would Kylo Ren scratch, what possible motivation could he have for giving up this late in the season?

Unless he scratched so he wouldn’t have to race me. 

Coward. 

…….

**Transcript of communication between BB8 and K. Connix 9:58 AM, Day of Grand Prix**

**Connix** : BB8 are you ready for starting lights? 

**BB8** : Yeah, hey Kaydel have you heard anything about why Kylo Ren scratched?

 **Connix** : Nothing here. It sounded like even his pit crew didn’t know until a few minutes ago. Definitely something strange going on there. 

**BB8** : Is he in the Pit?

 **Connix** : From what I can tell nobody knows where he is. They only called it when he hadn’t showed up. 

**BB8** : Did you do a pre race check Kaydel?

 **Connix** : Yes of course, we ran through everything after switching the tires. Something seem off. 

**Beeping and intermittent background noise disrupts recording**

**BB8** : My restraints Connix! The belt is slashed!

 **Connix** : What? That’s not possible! 

**BB8** : Engine revs

 **Connix** : Rey you have to scratch. Call it off its not worth it!

**End of Transmission**

…

If the Coruscant race felt like a minute, this race feels like 10,000 years. 

I slam hard into the side of BB8’s fuselage and grind my teeth as the racecar slings himself around the curve which immediately follows the famous tunnel at the end of the track. I am boxed in by Phasma and a stormtrooper, desperately vying for position as the course fights to lock the field together. 

It feels like a stampede. 

The adrenaline which pumps through my veins is not the jolt and excitement I usually feel. This adrenaline is laced with pain and a slight shake that stays in my limbs. It is the adrenaline that animals experience when they know they are close to death, the panic that causes people to fight or flee, the chemical compound which evolutionary processes developed with the sole purpose of _staying alive_. 

Tears run down my face. I’m not sure if they are from pain or fear but they slip past my lips like a salty poison. I can’t even wipe them from my eyes. 

Someone is trying to kill me. 

……

**Twitter feed of _@HerHighnessLadyCarise_ Saturday, 9:42 AM - 10:57 AM**

**@HerHighnessLadyCarise 9:42 AM Saturday May 20**  
Hello Cantonica Tattle readers! I am at the Canto Bight race today in the private box of Miss Rae Sloan from Empire Tires!

 **@HerHighnessLadyCarise10:11 AM Saturday May 20**  
I’ve been informed that our box is directly across from the private box which the Princess herself, Leia Organa purchased after the media uproar Rey Jakkusen caused in Coruscant. I’ll be keeping my eyes peeled to see if I can get a glimpse of the elusive Omega today!

 **@HerHighnessLadyCarise 10:36 AM Saturday May 20**  
FINALLY someone is coming into the box! It looks like she is hiding beneath a hoodie and oversized sunglasses. I’m going to loiter in the hall and see if I can catch a better glimpse

 **@HerHighnessLadyCarise 10:55 AM Saturday May 20**  
I am not sure what’s in the mimosas in our box, but I SWEAR to you readers that I just saw Poe Dameron in the flesh. He practically barreled over me as he ran out of the box. He was yelling ½

 **@HerHighnessLadyCarise 10:56 AM Saturday May 21**  
On the phone with someone named Katie? I’m almost positive it was him as Leia Organa was right on his tails, albeit in a much more fashionable Versace Pantsuit look than his unibomber sweatshirt. 2/2 

……..

I slide into the pit in fourth place. My shoulders are a mess of bruises from being slammed back and forth in BB8 throughout the race. Pain radiates through my neck and up to my jaw, where I feel like I’ve ground my teeth into dust from how powerfully my jaw is clenched. 

I’m just over halfway done with the race, and I already feel like I’m going to die. 

Part of me, the piece of me that sometimes opens her eyes and wonders if I should have stayed in Jakku, begs to stop. She wants to give up, to forfeit and say this was too difficult. 

When I pull into the pit the crew doesn’t move.

A second tics by, then another. This could cost me my position, this could lose the race for me. 

I reopen the radio frequency in my helmet just as I see Poe sprint into the pit. Before I can even speak he wrenches the headset from Kaydel’s grasp. And his voice alights in my ear. 

“Rey get out of the car now. You can’t race without restraints! The entire First Order lineup is practically running you off the track!”

I start the engine. 

He jumps in front of BB8. 

“Move” I scream. 

“Don’t do this Rey!” He yells in return. 

The anger that lives in my chest flares. I was a fool to think that girl inside me could still exist, that the endless fire of rage that has consumed my soul wouldn’t snuff her out. I will not give up, I will not be cowed into submission by a threat on my self. I am no one, born of sand and lonely nights with nothing but my anger for company. I will not give up. 

I peel forward, Poe barely manages to jump out of the way. I’ll finish the race without fresh tires, I won’t let another second be wasted to keep me from winning. 

…...

 

The day I met Leia Organa was not a good day.

I had crashed the last of the bikes that were salvageable, and instead was working on an old Mon Calamari roadster to take to the race. It was really too heavy, and had no hope of winning on the sandy track of Jakku, but racing was my one escape, so I took it out anyway. 

There were more people than usual at the long expanse of sand that served as a track, and I assumed the Nikto Cartel had managed to swindle some of the Niima race patrons into watching their underground races. They had been trying to recruit me into their ranks for weeks, offering me credits and security. I had belonged to Plutt once, and though I was old enough to have escaped his clutches relatively unscathed I wasn’t eager to endebt myself to another. 

I refused. 

The races became impossible to finish, much less win. If I could manage to keep them from sabotaging my vehicle before the race I would find myself being herded off the course, or rear ending someone who for no reason whatsoever decided to slam on the brakes directly before me. They changed the game, rigged it so a lone driver had no hope of overtaking the field. 

So I cheated. 

At first it was little things, like taping knives to the sole of my boots and slashing the tires of the unlucky racers who started next to me. Then I progressed into putting eyedrops in the drinks of my competitors at the Mos Eisley Cantina before we took to the starting line. 

On the day I met Leia Organa, the _Princess_ herself, I was being beaten to a pulp for throwing paint on an opponents windshield. The man was morbidly obese, and had some type of Hutt lineage. I should’ve run, escaped like the good little scavenger I was. I couldn’t though, I felt the anger that had spent years festering beneath the unending sun of Jakku bubble up and spill through my body like flame catching a wick. 

Anger is no match for size though, and I was not a good fighter. 

“Jabba get off her” Leia yelled, her raspy voice breaking through the pain of a black eye and split lip. Leia dragged the man off me by the back of his coat, his sweating, stinking body falling helplessly limp to her grip. The man was so fat he couldn’t even reach behind himself. He paled when he saw who it was that had interrupted his entertainment, and left quickly.

“Are you alright?” She asked. 

“I’m fine.” I replied tersely, before brushing myself off and hurriedly turning to leave. I wasn’t used to receiving help from anyone, let alone a beautiful stranger who could scare off a 300 pound man. 

“You remind me of my son Ben” She said, as she tucked her long braid over her shoulder. She seemed so young then. 

“Well you don’t remind me of my Mother” It is a cheap shot. The kind of comment that is meant only to wound. I was good at those types of quips back then, I still am. I have just learned to silence them. “Do you want something from me?”

“I want to offer you a job, I am with—“

“No, thank you” I interrupted. Whatever this striking woman did for her career was clearly not something which I could replicate. 

“You know, Han Solo told me you would be like this”

“Han Solo doesn’t know me from Palpatine, and hasn’t been within a 100 Parsecs of Jakku”

“Oh, he would like for everyone to think that. He was here just before the race, chasing down a lead on an old crappy car of his. Said that Gannis Ducain stole it and then somehow the Irving boys ended up selling it Unkar Plutt. I’m not sure about the specifics.” She pauses, reappraising me. “Thats neither here nor there though, he said that you were the best mechanic he’d ever seen. Well besides himself of course, but thats Han for you.”

“I’m not sure why someone like you even needs a mechanic, but I assure you there are plenty with more classical training. Whatever fancy antique car you have they can fix.”

Again I turned to leave, but Leia placed her hand on my shoulder. It was a gentle touch, one meant to be reassuring but I jerked away. 

It had been so long since anyone had touched me with anything but their fists. 

“He also said you could race.”

I shrug, suddenly uncomfortable with the intimacy this woman has shown me but unable to walk away. I wanted someone to try to help me, to see past my prickly exterior and find something worth saving. 

“I could, before they started shutting me out. Don’t know why I expected a fair playing field with the Nikto Cartel” 

“Rey, that’s your name right?” I nod “I need someone who knows racing, who knows what it feels like to have it be just you and the engine and the track. I had that before, with Han, with my brother. But they’ve both left now and my team still needs members. We could use someone like you, I promise I will pay you fairly, that you won’t have to drug your opponents or slash their tires. You can really make an impact, leave this place behind and start a new life. We might be an odd bunch, but we are a family.”

I deliberate in my mind. I never thought I would leave Jakku, I didn’t even dream of anywhere else. My only dreams were of someone coming back, someone realizing that I had been left behind. 

No, they weren’t dreams. 

They were fantasies. 

“I want my first month’s pay up front, and I want access to discarded parts and vehicles.”

“Ok, that can be arranged. But I will require that you spend 3 months with us before you run off with all our refuse.”

I didn’t really expect her to accept it. I just wanted to seem less eager than I was, to hide the tendrils of hope that had crept into my heart.  
“What’s your name?”

“I’m Leia Organa, welcome to Resistance Racing”

…..

The sun has come out, and it glitters and shines off the ocean and the thousands of yachts and sailboats which line the track’s course above the waters. They flash like camera bulbs when I exit the tunnel on my penultimate lap. 

I know Finn is behind me, somewhere in the crush of stormtroopers that hound my every turn. I somehow managed to take the lead and I drive with a reckless aggression. 

Phasma is there too, her presence much less friendly and much more dangerous. 

I wonder if anyone has found me out now, after Poe exposed himself and our showdown in the Pit which doubtless has already been examined and dissected by everyone in attendance. It's not very often a car nearly runs over someone, even less so when the would-be victim is supposed to be driving. 

I mostly think about Kylo Ren. 

Would I be winning if he were here? Will they call my victory hollow because he scratched? 

Did he want me to win, or is he hoping to undermine me by removing himself from competition? 

I think of the way his teeth felt on my neck, the shiver that had run through me as I was a both bare and in control. Will winning feel better than that? 

I can almost smell him, the snowy pine forest that must live beneath his skin. He said I smelled of lilac and sand, and I wonder if I’ll ever be free of Jakku’s dunes and desert. I wish he was here, that he was in the car behind me. That he could see an Omega best an entire field of Alphas. Somehow I know he would be proud.

I read once that in moments of extreme stress people will have out of body experiences. That they will be numb to the emotions that should be ravaging them, that they will enter a state of near euphoria as they rely on their instinctual ability to perform. 

I think Kylo Ren is as close to euphoria as I can get. 

….

**Transcript of the live broadcast by Norra Wexley and Wedge Antilles,11:41 AM Saturday, Day of the Grand Prix**

**Antilles** : We may not know who is behind the wheel of BB8, but it looks like they are in for some trouble this lap.

 **Wexley** : It does seem that way, in fact to be quite honest I am shocked that the Council hasn’t sent the safety car. If this were any other race surely the First Order team would be penalized. 

**Antilles** : Well there are only a few seconds left before they’re through the tunnel, and then it’s basically over. Whoever this mystery driver is it looks like they will be standing on the podium!

 **Wexley** : Do you see that wedge!

 **Antilles** : They’re crowding into the tunnel. 

**Wexley** : BB8 is going to get pushed off the track!

…..

I feel the jolt of being hit before I realize what’s happening. 

BB8 is nudged the second the bright sunlight hits my helmet covered face as I exit the tunnel and for a moment I think that the star itself has exploded, that a supernova of destruction is destroying our entire system. 

Then I’m airborne. 

The restraints can’t hold me down, and I fly out of the seat like a rag doll, my body still accelerating despite the fact that I’m no longer in a vehicle. 

I see the water below me, or maybe it’s the sky. They both are the same brilliant blue, the kind that you only see after the worst storms. 

I wish they were green, so I could see my favorite color one last time.

It can only be a second, but it feels like minutes have passed by, that my body is one with the sky and the sea and that the race was a distant memory. I wish the gloves were off my hand so I could feel the currents of air beneath me, so I could take this brief second and make it last an eternity. 

I always wanted to fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, real talk—this chapter was an absolute beast to write. I ended up making each little ‘scene’ shorter and faster, I felt like that was the best way to convey the feeling of urgency and panic that occurs. Please let me know what you think, I love any and all comments I receive, and now that this is done I will be going and responding to more from the previous chapters. 
> 
> I am sorry for the cliffhanger! Don’t hate me. I plan on updating again on Thursday :)


	8. Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see what fate holds for our little Rey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK I’m sorry this chapter is actually only half of what I intended. Real Life got in the way this week and I had a killer migraine today but I said I would update after leaving you all on a cliffhanger so I am updating with a short chapter.
> 
> Not giving an exact day for next update (because Real Life) but expect it early next week. I hope you enjoy

Death is louder than I expected. The sounds come from a long way off, sometimes they are words, just out earshot. But mostly I hear planes, or the loud shock of an F1 car speeding by. 

It is colder too, than I expected. 

My feet crunch through a narrow band of snow, and reaching pines obstruct my view. The light is strange, like the sun is only half the size it should be even though it is directly overhead. 

He is here sometimes. He wears a mask, not unlike the chrome and black helmet he chooses to race in. I run from him, but somehow I always end up following his tracks through the snow, and when I do catch him again we are separated by a crevasse that seemed to appear by the will of some cosmic force, beyond either of our control. 

Snow. 

Falling on pines. 

We are like two cars passing on a highway, we come close but never touch, passing and pulling apart with only the wind left to caress my skin.

I find myself craving the collision. 

…..

 

When the dream loses its evergreen scent and floods with antiseptic I know it’s time for me to return to the world of the living. 

I open my eyes and he’s there, slumped in a chair by my hospital bed despite the night sky which peers in through the window. 

“Kylo” I say, but my tongue is like cotton in my mouth and the word comes out as more slur. 

The figure stirs, then sits up. In the dim light from the machines I realize my mistake, that this man’s hair is shot with silver and his face is lined with wrinkles from too long smiling and scowling. Tears pool behind my bloodshot eyes. 

“Shhh, kid don’t cry. I was just taking over for Leia for a few hours, they gave her and Poe a empty patient room after they refused to leave or sleep for 3 days.” Han says, his crooked grin lighting up his face. He loses any semblance he had of Kylo with that grin, and I can’t help but be upset with myself for the assumption. 

Han pours me a glass of water and I sip from the flimsy straw, desperate to cool the pain of a dry and cracked throat.

“Rey, we were so worried about you” Han says, and he grips my hand with surprising force considering I feel as fragile as fine china right now. “When you went off the track I thought for sure I was going to watch you die right there. It was miracle that Ben--” 

He pauses, an obvious surge of emotion playing out across his face. It looks like love and loss and sadness, such a complete sadness all at once. 

“I’m just glad you’re OK.” He says. “I can go wake Leia now” 

“No” I croak “Do they--does everyone know?”

Do they know that I impersonated Poe, that I raced despite my distinction and in direct conflict of my ban? Do they care? 

“Oh Rey,” He says, a familiar chuckle entering his voice. “ _Everyone_ knows who you are now.”

….

In the morning I feel better, but the doctors still don’t want to allow more than 2 guests in my room at a time. Normally I wouldn’t listen to what they recommend, but the two police officers stationed outside my door seem much more interested in respecting their wishes. Leia says they’re there for security reasons, but won’t elaborate despite my continued pestering.

Poe and Leia are my stalwart companions, never leaving simultaneously. Even when I spend most of the day drifting in and out of sleep they remain nearby, and the minute one leaves the room they are replaced by Kaydel or Han or Finn or Chewie. 

In the evening I drift off, but in my dream I still hear their voices, even as I traverse a Jakku where the dunes are made of snow rather than sand and the scent of an evergreen forest lures me deep into the frozen desert. 

“She asked who pulled her from the sea” Poe’s voice floats through the clear night sky of my dream. I lay down in the snow, happy to have him near me again. “She wants to thank them.”

“He made me promise I wouldn’t tell her,” Leia’s gravelly voice enters, as I spy the man I seek on a far away Dune. I motion for him to join me, but he walks the other way. “It was the first conversation we’ve had in a decade.”

“She deserves to know”

“I have no intention of lying for him, but let's give them both some time.”

The words fade away as I follow my stranger, leaving only footprints behind in the snow.

….

A week after I wake up the team of Doctors that has attended my various injuries convene in my room. Their large and almost completely Alpha scents flooding the small space and truthfully makes me feel like vomiting. 

“We can discharge you under the condition that you continue rehab care upon your return home. We can arrange for a PT who is willing to do home care so you can avoid public contact.” Drones a surgeon named Dr. Casterfo. I’ve gleaned over the past week of interactions that he knows Leia somehow, and even though they’ve clearly had some sort of a falling out she still respects him immensely, and the respect of Leia Organa is not something easily earned. “I assume you will be returning to Resistance Racing’s home garage?”

He pauses and his eyes flash to Leia before returning to me. I did list her as my Medical Power of Attorney when I joined Resistance Racing, after I watched the chaos that ensued when drivers who didn’t have family were injured. I wonder what she has shared about me. “Of course she will Ransolm, Rey will always be part of our team.”

Even though I have known for years that my relationship with Leia has grown it still makes something ease inside me to hear her say those words, to acknowledge that I am more than my skill set. That I am part of the resistance, no matter how little or how much I contribute.

“Thank you” I respond.

Dr. Casterfo clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the intimate exchange before his team of doctors. 

“You experienced severe trauma, you are lucky that your shoulder and upper body took most of the impact, instead of your head. You have only experienced the torn rotator cuff, broken ribs and shoulder laceration, in addition to a suspected concussion. Had your head hit the water first you would have likely broken your neck.” I know all this, I’ve been examined and tested and drugged by every one of the Doctors in front of me, and none failed to remind me how serious my injuries were. But now I just want to go home, to leave this sterile room and try to regain some sense of normal in my life.

“I am not sure whether the rumors we have been hearing are substantiated, but we _highly_ ” he emphasizes this word, practically spelling out the letter with his eyes as he stares me down “recommend that you do not drive an F1 car for the foreseeable future. You are still healing, and you should continue to be monitored by a medical professional until you are cleared for normal activity.”

“Of course” I respond, even though I am confused by his meaning. _Why does he think I would be driving an F1 car soon, I was just outed and it was the last race of the year?_

With that he signs off on his clipboard and hands it off to an attending. 

 

…..

I get my first moment alone for the first time in more than a week just as we are about to leave. Leia and Poe are trying to arrange our exit of the hospital so no one sees me, as apparently pictures are currently under a bidding war after my crash. The blinds have been closed in my room since I peered out one day only to see a drone hovering by the window. 

I manage to shoo Leia away after she insists on staying in the room while I change in to real clothes, the flimsy curtains surrounding my bed the only modesty I get. I might feel as fragile as glass, but I hate being treated like it. I would rather shatter than ask Leia to help me change. 

I pull on my shoes, worn trainers that are dust stained and surprisingly difficult to slip onto my feet, given the lingering soreness. I hear a gentle tap, and then the sound of the door opening. 

“Leia, I said I was fine, just get me out of here—“ The curtain is pulled aside with slap, and a small woman with bangs and a ponytail stands before me. Her Omega scent immediately assaults my senses, like honey and baked bread, I feel an immediate kinship with her, a biological relaxation that comes with being near another Omega.

“Oh my gosh, you’re Rey. You’re like, a hero!” She says, excitement and nervousness clashing across her face.

“Um, I know my name yes. And you are?” I ask, slightly bewildered and concerned as to why the police at the door would allow a stranger in. She may be dressed in scrubs but she doesn’t have a badge like the other hospital workers. 

“I’m Rose Tico, I’m sorry for barging in on you like this, but I was hoping we could have a conversation. I’m with the OAA.”

“The what?” I am not well-versed in activists groups. 

“The Omega Action Alliance, we are a group that a advocates for the equal opportunity of Male and Female Omegas. Haven’t you heard of us?” She clearly seems distraught, and the name does ring a bell. The issue is, I have only known about my distinction for a few weeks, and prior to that, well, I probably wasn’t exactly an advocate for Omegas. It wasn’t my problem, and Leia seemed to be doing fine. 

Rose clearly expects some sort of recognition though, and seems crestfallen that I don’t immediately recognize her organization. 

“Did you ever attend Omega meetings? They are mandatory in most high schools.” 

_Do I look like I went to High School?_ I want to ask. Instead I shake my head slightly. 

“Oh sorry, I keep forgetting your foreign. Where is your accent from again? Well that’s rude of me to ask probably—“

 

“You know, it’s fine” I say, trying to fill my voice with reassurance. This girl—Rose— seems so nervous I can’t help but try to ease her awkward attempt at conversation. “Look I’m about to leave, is there something I can do for you?”

“Yes I know your leaving, that’s why I had to come see you. We would like for you to attend some of the events we have been holding since your accident. The rallies in Coruscant and Alderaan are the largest, but of course we could find a location that would be easiest for you. We want to broadcast any remarks you have, and we want to organize a large march.” 

“Excuse me, what are you talking about?”

…..

I think change happens like rain. It starts with a single drop and ends with a flood. 

While I was pulled from the shallows of the Cantonica sea, word spread that it was not the revered Alpha Poe Dameron who had been run off the road. My name was whispered, tweeted and messaged throughout the country. Rumors started in bits and pieces, the uneasy whispers of a few until that evening when Snoke confirmed that I, Rey Jakkusen had been behind the wheel of BB8 when he was run off the track.

Within hours there were thousands of people in the streets. Mostly women--Omegas, Betas, and Alphas--but there were men too. 

An amatuer racing photographer named Temmin Wexley caught the shot, captured from below so you see my outline flying through the air. One arm above my head, the other trailing behind like I am dancing through the blue sky. I see it now on the news, plastered onto protest signs with slogans like _The Future is Female_ and _Omega’s Rights are Women’s rights. Women’s rights are Human Rights._. 

I am not happy or proud though. I feel like a fraud, a villain who was in the wrong places at the right time, and is mistaken for the hero. 

I take Rose’s card, but I leave it on my hospital bed. I can’t speak to these people, the ones who have been Omegas their entire lives, who have spent years fighting with their entire souls to be seen as equal. They think that I’ve been an Omega my entire life, that I have shared in their struggle. In reality I just didn’t know. 

I never advocated for them before, I was bothered by the way things were but never enough to take action. Maybe I was unhappy, but I still worked at the track, still helped Poe win while I sat on the sidelines. It wasn’t until I felt like I had nothing to lose before I actually took a risk. 

That's how the status quo stays the same, not by the will of the powerful but by the stasis of the complicit. 

I am as guilty as Snoke. 

We return to the garage, and although most of the team heads out for their yearly post circuit vacations I remain. Leia and Han are off to Endor, and Poe of course heads to Sarrif to turn into a bronze Adonis on some beach. At the end it’s only Finn and I at the garage. 

I spend most of my days working on the new BB9-e model we purchased. BB8 was dredged from the shallows of the Cantonica sea and now rests in an old bay of the garage, I spend most of my days trying to rebuild him with spare parts and refuse that I’ve collected over the years. It's only fair after all, that I fix him. He saved me.

Thats where Finn finds me on a blisteringly hot summer afternoon, he holds a letter in his hand while sweat pours down his deep face. I smirk, he will never be comfortable in the heat as I am, I suppose I have the desert to thank for that. 

“I know you don’t turn on the TV, but I figured you should open this, since I’m sure it will be all over the news by tonight.” I stopped watching the news after the accident, not that I was ever well versed in current events. I can’t stand hearing people speak about me like I’m some celebrity. “It was delivered by a courier, says it’s from the race council”

I take it warily, and Finn leans against BB8’s body next to me. I’m not sure whether it’s Finn’s comment or something else that causes my hands to shake ever so slightly as I rip open the Manila envelope, but I find myself dreading whatever the letter contains. 

I scan it’s contents, my heart sinking. 

“You think they would’ve taken the hint that I don’t want to make an appearances” I say, even as my hands continue to vibrate with nervousness. “I’m not going to some Council meeting. I’m not going to be a member of the team next season anyway.”

“They’re threatening to put a penalty against us if you don’t show. It could cost Poe and I any shot at the cup this year” He says. Licensed Resistance Racing apparel sales have absolutely skyrocketed since Canto Bight, so we are no longer at risk financially. “Rey, I don’t understand what happened. You were hell bent on winning, and then after” 

He doesn’t need to say what. After the crash, after the hospital, I haven’t left the garage in over a month. I haven’t done anything except tinker with machines and fill my days by rebuilding BB8.

“Finn, do you ever feel like a bad person? Like there is something dark and awful inside you, and you spend your whole life trying to hide it?”

He looks at me, head quirking to the side in question. 

“I just feel like I am not a good person, that I don’t deserve to be some leader.” I say. I also feel guilty that I still think of Kylo. That I had wished he had been there when I woke up, that I miss seeing him and dark encounters on the track. I haven’t told any of the team about him, and it eats at me. 

“Rey, I think we all have that inside of us. Having bad thoughts doesn’t make you a bad person. Not everyone can be good all the time, we just need to try to be good.” He threads his fingers through mine, a friendly gesture and I feel my heart sore. I missed Finn, just like I’ve missed Poe and Connix. “We can’t be good by dwelling on our hate Rey, we have to fight for what we love instead.” 

He’s right, but it hurts. I feel like hate is all that propelled me through those last two races, how do I use love like that? 

We sit in silence, and I ponder the racing council meeting. There will be press I’m sure, but that's not what concerns me. It’s Kylo. 

I’m not sure what is socially acceptable when you make out with your sworn enemy only to tell him to leave you alone and then have a near death experience, but I’m pretty sure ghosting isn’t it. At least the radio silence is reciprocal. 

Part of me wants to continue my self imposed solitary, but I know that it can’t last forever. The world moves on, and I will have to come to terms with it regardless of what the future holds. 

“Alright Finn, I guess we will go”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I known Dark and Brooding has been missing for 2 chapters but I promise he makes his return in a spectacular fashion ;)


	9. Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey makes her already messy life even messier. 
> 
> Some light smut
> 
> *hides*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Takes outline*
> 
> *Throws it to the wind*
> 
> *Laughs*
> 
>  _1k words later_
> 
> *cries*
> 
>  
> 
> LOL Y’all these characters are off the rails I no longer have any control of this story so DON’T HATE ME.

I keep pulling the loose string that escaped from the hem of my dress as I wait outside the Council meeting. It’s so unusual for me to wear anything but tracksuits, but Finn insisted that I attempt to seem professional. _You are above them, but you need to show it_ he said as he helped me raid Leia’s closet for something from her youth that would fit me. We settled on a tea length black shirt dress, belted with a worn leather strap. I even put in the effort to do an updo, three small buns streaking down my head like a ridge. On the outside I look professional, composed, but inside I shake with fear for my trial.

No, not trial, a meeting is how the missive described it. _To address the defamation and false allegations against the Racing Council and Formula 1 Community raised by your actions in the Canto Bight Cup Final_ was the reasoning they cited. 

I don’t think for a minute that the 24 hour notice wasn’t intentional. They wanted to prevent Poe and Leia from returning and speaking on my behalf. I am sure they want to humiliate me, as well as ensure that I never see a track again. Separating me from my allies practically ensures their success. 

My mind spins through the scenarios in my head, what each council member could say, what new forms of retribution they can enact on resistance racing. I am not concerned with what they can do to me, I may not deserve whatever punishment they can mete on me, but I crave their retribution. Let the world see how discrimination against Omegas is dealt with. It only validates why I decided to race in the first place, the backwards rules and injustices that those in power inflict on me once my distinction became apparent. What I fear is that they will find a way within their rules to punish Resistance Racing, that my actions will have repercussions not only on myself but on those who I hold dear. 

The thread grows longer beneath my fingers as I pull until the hem is fraying beneath my hands. 

“Stop fidgeting” Finn says, gently placing his hand over mine. “There is nothing they can do Rey. They are just holding this pointless meeting to make themselves feel better”

“I already sent them notice of my resignation” I say. “You don’t think they can force me to move out of the Garage do you?”

“No, Leia made you a contract employee and technically your paychecks come from Han’s personal payroll. They can’t touch that”

“Then why have they called me here, if there is nothing they can do?” That is the heart of what’s been eating me. Snoke is no fool, he didn’t rise to control the racing council by calling pointless meetings. He has something planned, but I cannot imagine what. 

Before Finn can respond the polished metal doors _whoosh_ open by the the force of some unseen technology. Finn and I exchange a wary glance, and stand to enter.

Finn grabs my hand, I nearly pull away but stop myself. I could use a friend in this. 

The room where the council meets is strange. Snoke sits on what could ostensibly be described as a throne, the black tile floor polished to a sheen so reflective it leaves shadows behind my eyes. Red walls make the entire space even darker, as only a small window which overlooks the track provides natural light to the space. 

I shudder. 

There is no good place for me to stand, but since I am the one on trial I drop Finn’s hand and walk forward. Snoke leers at me, his eyes raking over my body in a way that instinctually makes my skin crawl. 

“So you’re the girl I’ve heard so much about” He practically spits. It’s no wonder I haven’t actually met him in my years on the circuit. The man looks like a walking fungus but acts like he is an emperor instead of a glorified figurehead. “Welcome. I trust your recovery is going well?”

I nod, my mouth suddenly too dry to speak. The faces of the other council members remain on their papers spread out before them, on the glasses of water that sit half empty, or even on the floor before my feet. None look at me. 

_I’m right here_ I want to scream, _look at me while you ruin my life. Look at me while you take away everything I’ve worked for just because I didn’t fit your preconceived notion of success._

“I was lucky that my injuries were not severe, and that someone on the yachts managed to rescue me before I drowned”

“Yes, it was quite fortuitous that someone was that close, and that you didn’t collide with any of the spectator’s watercraft”

“It was” I don’t know where the fire that has propelled me through these last few months has gone, but I am left with only the taste of smoke in my mouth. 

“I see that you have put in a formal letter of resignation” Snoke continues, his drawl sending dread through my core. “You cite your impersonation of Poe Dameron and subsequent crash of BB8 as the reason, and assume full responsibility for your actions.” 

He won’t believe my lie. I can see his mind calculating the odds. Examining me and Finn as he casts aside the thin veil of misdirection and half truths that I had spun. He knows that all of Resistance Racing was behind this, that I wasn’t a rogue agent defying my manager’s orders. 

When I look upon his weathered face though it is cunning I see, and satisfaction. 

Something is very wrong. 

“Yet none of them come to speak on your behalf?”

“They are on vacation.” 

“Not helping their dear friend recover? What a shame.” He pauses, flicking through some papers before him. The rest of the council is trained on him now, waiting for his judgement instead of my testimony. “You could use some better friends.”

Snoke shuffles the papers before him clearly relishing in creating an aura of suspense. “Rey, when you joined Resistance Racing you also opted into the benefits program associated with the racing union’s collective bargaining, is this correct?”

“Yes” I respond, not sure where he is going with this line of questioning. 

“Well, then I’m sure you are aware that by signing that document you agreed to Clause 115, which in subclause A states that _Any individual who is employed by a sanctioned Formula 1 racing team and completes a race as the driver of a vehicle is from that point forward considered an official driver, and as such is voluntarily agreeing to the rules and regulations which all drivers are subjected to when they sign their Circuit contracts_ ”

“No” Finn exhales. I glance over and see him staring down across the wrinkled man across the polished floor. There is clearly some unsaid exchange here, some crucial piece of information I am missing but that Finn has already surmised. “You cannot hold an Omega accountable to that contract. She never should have been eligible to sign on as an employee in the first place.”

“Oh I assure you, that we have worked extensively with our legal counsel. Despite her distinction she is still subject to the rules and regulations by which our sport abides. She is not exempt solely based on an unfortunate biological delay”

“Can you stop talking about me like I’m not here?” I interrupt. Seriously, what is with men and talking about a woman like she isn’t _5 feet away._

Finn doesn’t look at me, instead he keeps his eyes trained on Snoke, like the man is some sort of snake that will strike with a moments notice. 

“Why my dear, you are still eligible to drive. In fact you are technically a ‘free agent’ now that you have resigned from resistance racing.”

My mind finally grasps what they are referring to. 

“You want me to be a driver?” This is definitely not what I expected, but it’s not excitement that fills me but dread. Snoke would never allow me to get away so easily. What game is he playing?

“Yes of course, all the excitement you have brought to the circuit is doing wonders for the sport, why wouldn’t we want you driving? In fact as a free agent you were subject to an open draft, and your contract has already been picked.”

I can’t feel my body, can’t think, can’t even move. 

“You have been drafted by the First Order, welcome to the team”

Of course Snoke wants to turn me to his side, it's another opportunity for the circuit to make money, and they will try to reclaim the narrative of their oppression. He wants to prove that Alphas are superior once and for all, to save whatever semblance of strength he lost when I was exposed. He will do it by bringing me onto his. Team, and preventing me from ever making a real dent in the leaderboard. I can almost see the headlines now. By bringing me under the First Order Snoke will have full control of my racing abilities. 

Better the devil you know, right?

 

…

Finn protests, I stand in stunned silence, the council deliberates. 

I am numb, and I go through the motions without really feeling anything. The council debates my contract, my payment, my accommodation. In the end I am left with a directive, be on First Order property by the beginning of July for training, or face the full legal wrath of the Galaxy Circuits vicious lawyers.

 

...

 

There are still a few days before the first of the month, but I pack up quickly. I know Leia has been on the phone with the council since Finn told her what happened, but I also know it won’t do any good. Snoke wouldn’t reveal his hand unless he had ensured that no legal loopholes were available.

I throw my bag over my shoulder, intending to leave before Leia or Poe can return. Han lent me the Falcon, and although I hate his pity I love the car too much to pass on his offer. I let my eyes drift over my room which is decorated as it has been since I was 15, filled with an old Han Solo action figure and posters sporting Rebellion Racing Teams. I suddenly feel so different from my younger self, and the girl I see reflected in my living space feels like a stranger. 

When I turn to leave Poe is there. We don’t move, as if two plinths forever root our feet in place. 

“Would you have really left without saying goodbye?”

“Yes” I respond. 

I drop my bag, and sit back on my twin bed. I break his stare and trace the phoenix logo on my Rebellion Racing branded bedding, a coverlet that surely was marketed to children but that I have kept on my twin bed well past when it should be socially acceptable.

“I thought it would be easier that way” I say. It's an untruth though, I just wanted to save myself a little pain. 

“What’s happened to you? You were going to run right into their trap without even meeting with Leia and I? I thought we were your family.”

“You are” I respond, the numbness that has held me together since the Racing council suddenly feels painful, like the phantom pins and needles that overtake a limb when it loses sensation. I am not sure if it's worse than feeling nothing. “I knew if I waited I would never leave. I thought if I just—“

“You thought that if you left we wouldn’t be waiting for you, that we wouldn’t still love you, that we wouldn’t wait until your contract ended?”

 _Yes_ I think but don’t say. _I didn’t wait, when I should have. I left Jakku the first real chance I got._

Strangely, it’s the thought of Jakku and leaving that breaks the numbness that has plagued me. I feel my soul crack as a thousand emotions wash over me. Fear, pain, anger, loneliness—They war in my soul and threaten to consume me. 

Love isn’t enough to keep people together, it is just an emotion. We may be stupid and foolish in love, but we are stupid and foolish without motivation. To love is to be consumed, but to be loved is to have power. And I know Poe loves me, I grasp that knowledge like it is the only thing tethering my shattered soul together, that even if the world can make me a broken shell of a person he can hold me back together, if only for a little while.

Poe moves forward, each step falling so gently on the floor that I can’t hear his steps. Until he is before me sunscreen and sandalwood scent climbing up my nose. He smells like home. 

I look at his face, but for a moment it’s someone else looking down at me. A man who confessed to me in the moonlight and disappeared from my life. 

It’s not that dark-helmed man before me though, it’s Poe. Poe who has stood by my side for 6 years, who has spent thousands of hours poring over race footage and reading articles and throwing popcorn at my head as we sat cross legged on my small bed, in this small room that somehow now feels even smaller. Poe who I stared at the stars with in carrion of dead race cars. Poe. Who I’ve always loved as a girl and now maybe as a woman. 

I let his hands trace up my arms, they rest on my shoulders as his eyes peer into mine, a silent question written on his face. 

This could be a gentle thing, but I don’t want that. I don’t want to feel Poe’s love and be reminded that I may no longer reciprocate it, that someone else has stolen pieces of my heart that once wholly belonged to him. I want to feel alive, to feel in control one more time. 

I push him down onto my childhood bed, if he is surprised he recovers quickly his hands deftly steering my hips to straddle him as I pull his shirt over his head. He smiles at me as I trace the lines of his muscled shoulders. 

“When went into the water I thought you were going to die. Then be—“ I silence him with my lips, softly brushing against his. This is not a time for words. 

He quiets.

My hands reach lower, and I feel another crack in my shell, an echo of his arousal when I discover how hard he has grown beneath me. I can smell his scent spiking, and with that I feel slick pool in my underwear. Poe moves to my neck licking and biting and playing until he reaches the collar of my shirt. He flips me over so I am beneath him shoving my shirt up until it covers my face as he takes my nipple in his mouth. 

I whimper. 

He growls. 

At some point I start talking—no begging him for everything and nothing in particular. I feel the animal trapped beneath my skin open her eye, as if to say _finally, see what we Omega can do_. 

Poe’s hand slips into my pants, and he circles that peak of pleasure at the top of my thighs. I moan, but it's not enough to send me to that place I seek.

“Now” I say, and somehow that word has an effect on Poe. We desperately pull the rest of our clothing off while Poe still manages to keep his lips on my neck, my shoulder, my nipple, never letting more than a second go by when he is not tasting part of me. 

I twist onto my belly as Poe rips my pants off, bare and relaxed at last. He digs his hands into my ankle, and when I look over my shoulder at him as he looks at the delicate line of my backside I don’t see my friend, but the Alpha that lives beneath the skin. 

I can feel his body tensing, how he holds himself back even when every instinct is telling him to mount me. That my position in the most primal of positions for this base act only serves to unleash the part of him that holds that raw Alpha instinct. 

I wonder if this is how he feels when he races. 

This is how it felt when I won. 

“ _Alpha_ ”I say, again my voice sounding distant yet louder. A double note that I just know only he can here. “Poe”

The sound of his name on my lips all it takes, and he is on me. I cry out with the push of him inside me, a new sensation, but one that part of my body wakes up to. 

_Is this what I’ve been missing?_

Poe’s earlier gentleness is replaced with a surge of hands and direction. He threads one hand beneath my chest and the bed grasping the taught peak of my breast as his other hand lifts my hip to meet him. With each thrust he brings me higher, until I can’t hear anything but his breathe and can’t feel anything but where our bodies connect.

When I come Poe bites my shoulder, just to the side of that spot that is so hot it aches, and he moans my name as he shudders in his own release. 

 

……. 

We laid there for hours, sometimes kissing, sometimes fucking, but never speaking. Each brush of skin, every crash of teeth and lips and sweat was its own word, spelling out our love in the only way we knew how. 

To speak it would’ve been to admit our betrayal as well, to admit that whereas our hearts were once solely each other’s, now some pieces are missing.

I carefully slide from beneath him, our bodies hopelessly tangled on the small space of my bed. He doesn’t stir, but still I try to be as silent as possible as I pull on my clothes. I cast a longing glance at the door to my bathroom, imagining the feel of a hot shower, and Poe’s hands twining through my hair as the water soaks us—

I fasten my belt with finality. _Those_ thoughts are not what I need right now, not when everything I know is falling apart. Not when I need to leave and have no idea what the First Order will do to me.

I grab my bag, turning past Poe as I walk to the door. He looks so peaceful, my beloved comforter wrapped around him, relics of our shared adolescence strewn throughout the room. I can’t help but push one roguish curl from his face. 

I want to tell him I love him as he loves me, that my heart belongs to no one but him. Even in sleep I cannot lie to the face of my friend. 

“We’ll be together again.” I say, barely more than a whisper. “I believe that”

Our scents mingle in my small space, and for the first time since I gained the increased olfactory sensitivity that comes with being an Omega I can smell myself. 

_Lilac and sand_ just like Kylo said. 

 

……

 

The First Order base might as well be in space, it’s so far from everything. 

After 5 hours of driving I stop at a strange store. It looks to be part restaurant, part bar and part thrift store. Given it’s remote location it is surprisingly popular, with most of the tables occupied by a wide range of characters. I slide into a booth and peruse the menu, which contains food items from all over the world. 

I decide to be safe and order a water. 

My back aches from driving, and my earlier romp with Poe has seemed to irritate mys till healing ribs. My clothes scratch at my skin. 

“What’ll it be” says the child—no woman who takes my order. She is so short it shocks me. Her glasses cover most of her face, but beneath them I can see the tell-tall wrinkles of age and spots of a life lived in the sun. 

“Just water,” She taps her foot impatiently. Probably not good form to take what is clearly valuable seating real estate and order something she won’t earn a tip on. My eyes dart across the menu, I feel sick, but eyes snag on an old favorite. “And a Root Beer Float I guess.” 

When she returns with my drink I slip a Credits note into her hand, and abandon my table to the group of Huttese that have entered and are crowding the thrift store portion of the truck stop. I am not ready to drive again, so I sip the icy sweetness through the paper straw and peruse the mismatched items of clothing that have somehow ended up here. 

I find something, in the back of a very dusty chest of old T-Shirts. 

It’s a set of gloves, and something about their scent tickles my brain. I grab them, then head to the checkout. The same old woman who took my order is there as well. 

When I put the globes on the scuffed counter before her she looks up at me, pulling her glasses off and practically climbing up onto the counter to get a good look at me. 

“You live long enough and you see the same eyes in different people” She says, as she checks the glove for a price. “You look like someone who is running from something” 

_More like towards something._

“Sometimes we can’t always be where we belong” 

Her eyes flick over me again. 

“The belonging you seek is not behind you, Rey.” I start at my name. “It lies ahead”

With that she is off to help an unruly table, leaving me standing there with a confused look on my face, and a strangely aching heart. 

…..

When I finally arrive at Starkiller Base its evening again. 

I park behind the rows of garages where their fleet of race cars are stored and idle the Falcon. 

I guess this is home now. The main complex is a sprawling single story building, with small narrow windows and black walls. It feels dreary and I’m not even inside. 

I’m sure that I’m supposed to check in somewhere, but I traipse around the building to what I think is a rear entrance. I don’t feel like being humiliated or turned into a spectacle right now, as I’m sure Phasma and her minions would like. I manage to find an unlocked door (I guess when you are in the middle of nowhere you aren’t worried about people breaking in) and enter. 

I wander the halls aimlessly, having underestimated how confusing the interior would be. I’m not sure if I could find the main entrance if I wanted to at this point, and my exhaustion is wearing on me. I drag my bag along the ground, the pressure of its weight too much on my sensitive shoulder, my exhaustion making me lean against the wall after taking another hall that ends in locked doors. Seriously, where do these people sleep? 

I’m so tired, and my skin feels like it's on fire, I lean down to the ground and then press my cheek to the tile. The cool feels blessedly icy on my overly hot skin. 

I wonder if this is the anger I felt for so longer, trying idly to fight through the shell of numbness that I have encased in my heart. 

I catch a scent, and I can hear words echoing through the hard tiled halls of this place. 

I stand, my body like a kite on a string as it is pulled towards what it seeks. 

I take the turns that confounded me earlier with ease, and though my eyes are open it is not sight that directs me. Something deep in my core, an eye that recently opened is moving my limbs, dictating my direction. When I finally stumble to a door I know what will be behind it, even if I don’t know how my body got here. 

“Kylo” I whimper, overcome with a rush of pain so terrible it threatens to overwhelm me. I sink to my knees and the door opens. 

“Rey?” It is a question and a curse, and I wince visibly from his Alpha voice. 

“Help” I cry. 

He scoops me up so I’m standing, and I blindly try to walk into the room we are on the threshold of but he holds me back. 

“Why are you here?” He asks, a new level of steel edging into his voice. His nostrils are flaring, and I realize suddenly why he is holding me back. 

I smell like Poe. 

“Please” I whimper pathetically. “Please _Alpha_ , help me” 

“Oh fuck Rey, fuck” He says before he pulls me into his room, I get a brief glimpse of dark furnishings before I’m in a blindingly white tiled bathroom, and a shower of ice water is running over me. “You reek” 

The water brings some sense back to me, enough that I’m embarrassed on a number of levels. Kylo and I stand beneath the steady stream, and I’m reminded of the first time we kissed in another shower. How that moment would define so many after. 

Will this shower change as much as the last? 

He is huffing, and I deeply inhale as if his expelled carbon dioxide is the only oxygen in the room. 

“You couldn’t make this easy could you?” He asks, and whatever I see in his eyes isn’t what I expected. It’s anger. “You’re just like her.”

“Who?”

“You show up here, in heat smelling like HIM” He roars, before slamming his fists into the tile beside my head. I don’t flinch, that creature that woke up inside me seems incapable of understanding that Kylo, especially angry Kylo could hurt me. She seems content to trust any Alpha who comes near now. We are closer now his jaw nearly resting on my cheek, his other arm lowering so it is close, so close, to touching my waist. If either of us move, if he so much as speaks we will connect, and then I know instinctually that this will all be for naught. We will collide and crash and burn. 

I crave the flame. 

“Who am I like Kylo?” I say so lowly I’m unsure if he will hear me beneath the. Shower and the pounding of both our hearts. 

His eyes flick to me, and he moves so his face is directly before mine.

“You’re just like her Rey” He says, before crushing into me, our lips searching for more as we connect, our kiss eclipsing any desire I had to dive into the question I asked him.

In my heart the shadows dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL remember how I said I would answer some of your questions in this chapter well NOPE COULDN’T DO THAT BECAUSE REY CAN’T KEEP IT IN HER PANTS
> 
> Ok in all seriousness I felt like this chapter was a dumpster fire but I got SO STUCK. 
> 
> So logically I decided to create a whole slew of other problems for these suckers instead of resolving anything. 
> 
> OK In all honesty this will get resolved but having Rey just run to Kylo felt too easy especially considering there is some actual PLOT here that will take time to resolve. So instead of letting my characters be happy for part of the story (where is the fun in that) I decided to fuck up their lives.
> 
> All aboard the pain train!
> 
> Let me know if you hate me ;)


	10. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a dumpster fire. 
> 
> Fluff. 
> 
> Some more Fluff. 
> 
> Maybe a sprinkling of plot. 
> 
> New character! 
> 
> Moderate (by my standards) Cliffhanger. _I can’t stop myself_

Kylo pulls back from our kiss almost as quickly as it began, and my body follows his like we are connected by a string. 

He pushes away from me, turning and leaving me behind. I stumble after him, desperate to touch, to follow, to please. 

_Help me_

I track into his immaculate bedroom—which surprisingly is entirely white, _tabula rasa_ , immaculately organized and flooded with natural light—and when he realizes I’m a few steps behind him, dripping on the plush area rug which has completely enveloped my toes he actually _growls,_. 

“Go back into the bathroom, and scrub yourself clean until every molecule of Poe Dameron’s scent is gone.” He growls, the double timber entering his voice, and despite myself I feel _relieved_ that he has given me an order. 

“Yes, Alpha” I respond, and the self-loathing is immediate. _What is wrong with me?_

He snarls in response. 

….

When I step out of the shower he is waiting. 

His hands are pressed against the doorframe, his chest hunched as he leans forward into the bathroom. I reach for a towel, but he snatches it from my grasp, then steps into my personal space as he wraps it around my shoulders. 

I should be embarrassed, to be naked and wet and absolutely pathetic in my current state, but those emotions have no place in this. This is a dance that our bodies knows, our minds are just along for the ride. 

When I am sufficiently shrouded in no less than four towels he pulls me into the room. This time I pay more attention to my surroundings, although there isn’t much to note. The furnishings are dark wood, though the bedding and carpet are Snow White. The large window boasts a view of the night sky and distant track indicates that it gets plenty of natural light. There are no books, though a kindle sits by the bed with a set of horn rimmed glasses. There is a desk in the corner which is littered with paper, although it is too far away for me to see what their contents are. It is the only are that seems even remotely lived in. 

Kylo tucks me into the bed roughly, if such a contradiction were possible. He stands and I bite my tongue so hard it bleeds, trying to stop a string of pleads from being said. 

He bends over, carefully pulling back the towel which is wrapped around my shoulder, and rests his thumbs at the points where my neck and collarbone meet. They press firm circles into my skin, pressuring my muscles until they release and my body goes limp. 

“After Canto—“ 

I stop him with my lips. I have had enough confessions, enough talking. I take all the apologies that I want to throw at him and speak with my body instead. 

My hands pull him down, so we. Are laying side by side on the bed, my entire body flush with his. My lips travel down his neck, my hands searching for skin. I want to shed the towels, to have nothing but skin between us, but I hold myself back. 

I peer into his eyes, a silent question hanging between us. _Is this alright?_ I fear if I say the words aloud the spell will be broken, that my voice will make all we leave unsaid no longer able to be quieted.

He nods, before pushing me back and climbing over me. When his lips find my neck I feel relief for the first time, the incessant need abating until it is more of dull reminder. I curl reflexively around him, my arms snaking under his soft T-shirt, my legs curling around his. 

We stay like that for a few minutes, or maybe its a few hours. Time slips away and all that exists is our skin, our two bodies breathing and lying together, two people sharing an embrace. 

When I dream we walk through snow capped dunes hand in hand.

…..

It’s like a fog has cleared from my head. 

After a few hours of the deepest sleep I think I have ever had I return to the world. It’s still early, the pale blue promise of dawn shining through Kylo’s window and painting his features in shades of indigo. He looks younger and my hand reaches up to trace his face of its own accord. There is a new scar, not that his body was free from them before. It runs down his face and I can see where whatever sharp object also connected with his shoulder. 

“Where’d you get this?” I mumble to myself, and he stirs imperceptibly. I draw him closer again, my body giving him what he needs before my mind has time to catch up. I press my body flush against his and he settles again his muscles going pliant as his hands find there way against my back. 

“Canto Bight.” He says, and I nearly jump out of my skin. 

“I didn’t know you were awake.” I squeak. I feel like a child who has been caught sneaking around past their bedtime. 

“Alphas can’t sleep near Omegas in heat. Rest isn’t exactly our primary drive, if you catch my drift.”

“Oh” I realize that I’ve been tracing my fingers over his body, drawing invisible whirls and circles into his skin. I ball my hands into fists instead. 

“Don’t stop,” He says, his hands pulling me against him as if to draw me closer. We are already as tightly intertwined as two people can be without, um _that_. 

I resume my invisible finger painting. 

“You know, we haven’t really um.” I’ve never heard him stutter, and I think I should feel awkward, but I don’t. The towels are wrapped around me, and Kylo is fully clothed. This is no more intimate than our first kiss, but I’m afraid if I acknowledge the current situation it will change the game like an optical illusion, that some obvious flaw will present itself and I won’t be able to see the whole picture anymore. “We haven’t talked that much. I hardly know anything about you.”

“What, do you have some rule about knowing a girl’s middle name before knotting her?” I ask. 

“No” He says, “But I feel like we have been headed towards this for a while, and neither of us stopped to ask if we are actually compatable.”

“I see, middle names are too personal. Why don’t you start with favorite color?”

“I know it may seem awkward” He says, ignoring my pathetic attempt at levity. “But first we need to discuss this situation.”

Oh yeah, how I’m in his bed in a towel halfway into my first heat after showing up at his door like a lost puppy with the evidence that I fucked his rival hours before still covering my skin. 

_That_.

 

“Just being in the presence of an Alpha should relieve most of your heat symptoms, but it will get worse.” He pauses, looking me over carefully. 

“I’m sorry if I put you in a compromised position when you appeared last night. You were clearly distraught, and it is in my biology to alleviate your pain. When an Omega is in heat it doesn’t just” He is clearly uncomfortable with the trajectory of the conversation, his grip steadily growing tighter on my body, as if he is afraid at any moment I will push him away. “Arouse Alphas around them. It makes us feel what you are feeling. That’s why ruts are _triggered_. When you showed up in that state I lost it, I had to help you. But now we can discuss other options.”

 _Other options?_ I start to panic at the thought of Kylo leaving, _I can’t be alone, can’t deal with that pain again. He is right here, why does he want to leave? Am I good enough? Is he mad?_

“Shhhh” He soothes. “It’s OK, I will do whatever you want me too. Shhh”

I can hear my panic reflected back in his voice.

“I want you.” I say, before realizing how awkward that is. “I mean I don’t want you to leave me, I know I am the one who showed up at your door last night like a crazy person but if it’s ok I’d like to stay with you.” 

“I could call Poe” He says, with obvious effort. I can feel the hairs on his arms stand when he says my friend’s name. 

“No” I retort. “I don’t want Poe.” _Not like I want you._

We sit there for a minute, staring each other down in some mental face off, before he relents. 

“And it looks like we may be stuck together for a day or so.”

A laugh bubbles up through my throat. I can’t help it. 

“ _Stuck together,_ ” I’m in heat, and I can feel him pressed against my abdomen. It's the worst unintentional pun I’ve ever heard. 

“Probably a poor choice of words,” and a small laugh escapes from him too. His laugh is one that comes through a smile, and my entire chest feels painful with joy when I see it on his face. I don’t think, I just lean forward, and press my lips to his. 

This is not some hot shower kiss, or a desperate escape. This is the sun on hot summer afternoon, the thunder that follows a flash of lightning. This kiss is expected, it fits the situation and for a minute I forget all thoughts of cars and Omegas and Alphas and racing and fighting, and all I think about is the points where our skin connects. 

When we pull apart his smile has grown even wider, his teeth showing behind those full lips and his usually aristocratic look devolving into one of boyish joy. 

“So,” he starts moving his hands towards my stomach, and suddenly without warning he is _tickling_ me and I burst into uncontrollable giggle screams “What _is_ your favorite color?”

…..

Mine, of course, is green. He asks if it’s a green like jade, and I say yes, like jade, like moss, like a forest, like snow dusted pines, like a crisp summer apple, like the start light on the track.

Kylo’s is surprisingly blue. I say like the ocean—he corrects like the sky. 

We trade questions like its a game, and each of us are trying to puzzle out who the other is. 

The day passes slowly, then all at once. We only track time by the angle of the sun through the window, and before we run out of questions the summer day has settled into evening, the purple glow of darkness chasing the horizon. Sometimes we are face to face, two crescent curled around an invisible center, sometimes he curls around my back, and I feel like I was built to fill his negative space. Eventually we prop ourselves upright on a mountain of pillows he retrieved from some hidden location in the base, but when he returns with pillows and blankets and snacks to sustain us I am curled into a ball beneath every sheet and blanket in sight. He holds my face and kisses away my tears, an unspoken vow to stay with me until the end written with his hands. 

We touch each other freely, but never cross that invisible line. His scent is enough to keep the worst of the pain at bay, his warmth a comfort and a release all its own. 

Alphas may not sleep while an Omega is in heat, I find myself drifting off slowly as night comes. My answers devolve to the shake or nod of a head, my questions dropping off until Kylo is more talking than asking. 

“One more question, then you can sleep, OK?”

I nod, but I’ve buried my face so completely in his neck that a nod and a shake are all but indecipherable. 

“What’s your middle name?”

I like his voice, the soft tones that transform his whispers. Every word that he speaks sounds like a secret, and I hold them close. 

“I don’t have one” I say, each word feels like swimming, an effort to even stay afloat. “Just Rey.”

And then, because I want a few more words to hoard like treasure, I push one more of my own out. 

“You?”

“I don’t have one either.” And my heart sings, even as I hear sadness creep into his voice. We are the same, he and I. He was alone like me, but we found each other. 

For the first time since my crash I walk into sleep and am greeted by darkness, a blessedly dreamless rest. 

And as I slip into that space, he gives me 3 more whispers, more secrets to lock in my heart. 

“My name is Ben.”

 

…..

 

When I wake up a growl of my own emanates from my throat. 

_What the hell is going on? I thought that was an Alpha thing._

My brain catches up to my body, and I realize what brought that reaction from me. 

An Omega, perched perfectly on the edge of Kylo’s bed. Kylo hovers menacingly by the door. 

“Who is this?” I ask, my voice flat and cold. The question is for Kylo, but I can’t rip my eyes from the woman in front of me. She is a classic beauty, curvy and petite, her form accentuated by a black pencil skirt and low cut white linen blouse. Her blonde hair hangs in curls down her back, and her makeup is tasteful, just enough to accentuate her already delicate features. I suddenly feel horribly self conscious standing here in my towel, my hair wet and still tangled.

“I have a name,” she responds, and I feel hot anger, along with the painful ache of something else growing in my abdomen. “I thought you would know.”

I stare at her blankly in response. I’m afraid if I open my mouth to respond I will scream.

“Adea Rite, I’m Kylo’s friend.”

I can’t decide if I should claw her eyes out or beg her forgiveness. My biology at war with my rational mind and I hate it. 

“Friend?” I ask weakly.

“I was—“

“Enough Kylo,” the Omega interrupts. 

He quiets. 

It’s uncomfortable and maddening to see him acquiesce to another Omegas requests. I have to acknowledge that in my existence in the Alpha dominated world of racing, I rarely had to interact with other young Omegas. When I became one it felt like I was an anomaly, a freak, a minority. In reality Omegas comprise a significant portion of the population. 

And here is another Omega, one who clearly knows how to use her biology like a knife, each curve and lilt of her body a weapon of its own right. She hasn’t had to hide, the low cut of her blouse and unsuppressed scent making it obvious that she has no qualms about her designation.

“You’ve gotten yourself into a right mess you know.” She says, and that’s when she reaches down and picks up a briefcase I hadn’t noticed by her feet. “We would’ve had a better chance of fighting this before she arrived at Starkiller. Now it looks she is compliant with the racing council’s request”

“This really isn’t the best time.” Kylo says, and he looks like he is in physical pain. He is hunched over slightly, and I can see his knuckles as his grip digs into the doorframe. If his scent wasn’t already broadcasting his discomfort he looks like he has been hit by a car, purple shadows hanging from his eyes against an even more striking pallor than normal. 

“Legal counsel never has a good time, but we do what we must” Adea replies swiftly. “I need to know what are your goals for fighting this. Do you want to be released from your contract with the First Order, or do you intend to return to racing? I personally think we have a case for defamation charges, and we definitely could go into discrimination charges, but given the past rulings on Omega equal employment opportunity we would definitely expect to advance to higher court. Really it’s what you want to do Rey.” 

“Kylo” I whimper, and its like a chord has been cut. He is immediately back in the bed, adjusting the nest and ensuring that I am tucked in. 

“Adea, I appreciate the urgency but uh. Well this is her first.”

He whispers the last words, as if that will keep me from hearing them. 

“Oh. My. God.” She says, and then she hisses. “Kylo GET OUT” 

He practically jumps at her words, and I do too. They have a sing-song quality, one that immediately reminds me of the double timber that Alpha’s get when using a command. 

I’ve never seen Kylo exit a room faster. 

This time when Adea walks up to me her scent has changed, it is soothing, and I remember a nurse from when I first found out my designation. 

“This is your first heat?” She asks, keeping her voice soft. She looks like she is approaching a wild animal. 

“Yeah, umm yes.” I reply, I’m not sure what to do. I miss Kylo’s presence, but this Omega who initially repulsed me is now having a similarly calming effect. 

“And you’re ok with Kylo? He is being considerate right?”

“Yes of course.” I reply. “But um, what exactly is it that you’re doing?”

“Oh, we Omega’s can alleviate heat symptoms as well.” She replies chirpily. “I know that some old fashioned people think an Alpha is the only way to get through a heat, but we wouldn’t have survived if there weren’t an alternative way to satisfy a heat without risking life and limb for a potentially violent Alpha. It only makes sense that evolution found a neat little loophole for that you know.”

“Wow, I thought all Omegas had to find an Alpha to get any relief. Or you know, go solo.”

“Well Alphas we love for us to believe that we all need some big protector, but the truth is its perfectly natural for us to pair with another Omega. They try to make it seem taboo because they’re afraid that without heats they’d lose their place at the top of the food chain or some nonsense like that. But I thought I’d get him out of the room to ask, just looking out for my fellow girl you know.” She says winking, “besides, if you weren’t enjoying him I could always show you how to enjoy a heat.” 

I’m shocked by her proposition, but I think that if not romantic interests weren’t already a tangled mess I wouldn’t mind getting to know Adea a little better. 

She quickly packs up her things, her heels clipping the floor as she heads to the door, “I’ll send him back in, but we do have to meet to discuss your legal strategy as soon as this is over with. We will want to have a firm stance on your approach before your first official day with the First Order”

She opens the door, and unsurprisingly Kylo is directly outside, I idly wonder if he was pawing at the entrance. 

…

 

My heat wanes enough that by that evening I decide I need to be a human again and take a shower. 

My self-consciousness has returned en force, so I make Kylo sit with his back against the shower door so he can’t see me, but is close enough that his scent mixes with the steam. The combination is so relaxing that I nearly fall asleep standing up. 

Twice. 

“It’s been 25 minutes, how can you get any cleaner?” Kylo groans. The truth is I have always luxuriated in the simple pleasure that is a shower. I think it’s the natural opposite of a childhood in a desert without rain. 

“Hand me a towel please” I say, “and no peaking!”

“There is so much steam in this room I can’t see my own hands, much less your tits.” He mutters, and what feels like the thousandth giggle in the last 48 hours escapes my chest. I haven’t laughed like this in a long time. I find that I like it. 

It’s not that Kylo is funny per se, it’s that’s for a man so serious and brooding-who probably averaged 25 words per day before I showed up-he says a lot of _dumb_ things. It’s almost child like, how the words bubble up and away before he has learned to snatch them back. It’s a relief, to realize that his mask didn’t hide a beast, but a slightly awkward man. 

He dutifully retrieves a towel, and makes a show of covering his eyes with his free hand when I stick my hand out the shower door to retrieve it. We clumsily switch places in the steamy room, the sweat and bodily fluid exchange not limited to the Omega when it comes to a heat. 

I sneak a glimpse at him, despite my earlier modesty. 

He is tall of course, and I felt his muscles during our 48 hour cuddle sesh, but it’s something else to appreciate him from a distance like this, instead of in the _heat_ of the moment. 

_Ugh, the unintentional puns. They’re rubbing off on me_

His torso is long and built, and although he doesn’t have the oversized muscles that so many find attractive I find that his lean build is enticing. A variety of scars pepper his torso, and old bruises cover his arms yellowing as they fade. I think of my own injuries, of the crash that happened so recently but somehow feels like a lifetime ago. My life has gone through such rapid changes I don’t think I’ll ever catch up, that I’ll ever be able to go through my days without expecting the next paradigm shift to hit me at a moments notice. 

I’m surprised, not once, in the hundreds of questions we asked during our game, did he ask about my crash. 

Maybe it was some heat thing, a hormone whipping through our shared scent that subconsciously prevented us from asking distressing questions. There is probably some biological explanation for why we worked so well together, like two people who had known each other for more than a few chance encounters. 

“My turn?” I say, as I settle my back against the glass shower door. I expect it to be chilled but it is pleasantly warm from a combination of Kylo and the shower’s heat. 

“Sure” he responds. 

“Why did you scratch?”

Even with the rushing water I hear the catch in his breath, the spike of fear that snakes into his scent. 

“Kylo?” I whimper, his fear instantly setting me on edge. 

“No, no, it’s ok Rey” he says and he is out of the shower, modesty forgotten. He scoops me up and takes me back to the nest—bed and lowers me down. He carefully arranges me so that I am secure and tucked in, before he towels off my hair so it doeosn’t soak the fresh linens. 

“Why did you scratch?” I say, and from somewhere deep within myself I feel that sing song cadence enter my own voice, the same one Adea employed earlier in the day. 

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to race against you. I just, fuck Rey.”

I can’t be mad, at the end of the day I didn’t win. I didn’t even finish the race. 

“What are you talking about?”

He isn’t looking at me, his eyes staring at his hands and I can practically see the memory replaying itself in his eyes. 

“When you crashed Rey.” He says, standing. The space where he was feels empty, cold. “Do you remember how Hux was planning sabotage BB8, with the sugar in the gas tank?”

I nod, unsure where this is going. 

“That morning, I was going to race you. I was there, at the track, suited up and ready to go. I mean I couldn’t scratch, if you won then they would’ve called it a hollow victory, I needed to race you, so you could prove you were better than everyone, including me.” My heart soars at his words, at the offhand nature in which he speaks of my triumphs, as if my abilities are normal, second nature, instead of shocking because of my designation. 

“That morning I heard Hux at the track, he was talking to Phasma, detailing how they would run you off the track. They planned it, they were trying to _kill you_ ”

The words sink to me as if I were sea, they break the surface and sink ever so slowly into my depths. 

“I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t stop you, there was no time to talk to you, not that I thought you would listen after I pored my heart out to you. You were on a mission, the only people you would listen to were your friends.”

“I did the only thing I could think of, I went to Poe, I begged him to stop you, to get your car out of the race, but I was so scared that wouldn’t be enough. I took a dingy, literally a fishing boat I stole and tried to get there, I waited, just in case.”

“And then you were there, and by the time I got you to one of those mega yachts a medical crew was there and they flew us to the hospital.”

 _Wait_ Kylo was at the hospital? 

“Why weren’t you there when I woke up?” I’m not sure if its the remnants of my heat or some post traumatic stress of my accident, but I’m suddenly heeartbroken that he would leave me there. Was I not good enough? Does he not want this? 

“Rey, I” He is losing his words, and I brace myself for whatever bomb is going to be dropped on me next. I was foolish to think my world had settled, I should have expected this, expected whatever inevitable twist of fate would ruin something I want so dearly. 

“Rey,” He says, sitting up straighter and looking at me, although I feel like he is looking through me. “My name isn’t really Kylo Ren.”

“What?” I ask, for what feels like the hundredth time today. “Who are you then?”

“I’m Ben Solo.”

I stare at him, and it’s like a filter has been lifted off the image. I remember Han, how he had looked like Kylo for just a moment when I woke in the hospital, and everything clicks into place. 

_That's quite the car you have there, where’d you find it?_

_of course it was you, who else would manage to find that car after it had been missing for years._

_He made me promise I wouldn’t tell her, it was the first conversation we’ve had in a decade_

_It was miracle that Ben—_

_Ben_

Ben

“Kylo”

The voice breaks our reverie, but before either of us can so much as move the door opens, and our carefully constructed lies and half truths come crashing down around us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> Sorry for the delay in updating. I had planned to use my July 4th holiday to write this update and ended up getting food poisoning. After this week expect updates on a weekly basis.
> 
> I just wanted to say thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who reads and comments on this fic. It makes everything more fun and I LOVE every single comment and kudos you leave, it means the world to me. 
> 
> I try not to respond to comments before I post the next chapter _because I want to spoil everything and am terrible at keeping secrets_ but know that I do read your comments and will usually go respond to them once the next update is up. 
> 
> Also I would love to connect with you more! I made a twitter (@amlark) because I am too dumb to figure out how tumblr works, and twitter is funny. Come find me, I follow everyone! If you are writing a fic please let me know in a comment so I can read it, I have already lurked on some of you ;)
> 
> Also I have another fic I’m working on now as well if you want to go give it a go. It’s in-universe canon-divergence where Rey is a Mandalorian! Yay for badass take no shit Rey, that girl is my muse.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So there is a chapter count..... 
> 
> And Chapter 13 is really the epilogue and will FINALLY be NO PLOT ALL FLUFF FUN. 
> 
> So if you have stuck with me this long... you still have to wait a little longer.

The first time I drove a Formula one car I crashed.

Not a crash like I had in Canto Bight, but the usual beginner spin out, off the test track and into the dirt, slamming into the side of the walls. Embarrassing only because it was so anticlimactic, the type of crash that bruises your ego more than anything else. It still scared me so much that I found tears dripping down my face, my lip bloody from where I had bit into it. 

It was in this moment of self-perceived weakness, as I sat numbly with my hands death knuckle gripped on the wheel, that Poe had popped his head in, and asked if I was ok. I let him pull me out, hooking his arms under my armpits then wrapping my arm around his shoulder. Treating me like a broken doll even though I was fine, it was just a shock, I was more than capable of walking on my own. He never would have helped one of the male drivers like that, but I was shaken up, and didn’t think to shrug him off. I was happy just to have him close, back when I thought I would never have him at all. Poe was a forbidden well, one I desperately wanted to dive into and drown in, but instead drank only enough to slake my thirst.. 

_”Sweetheart,”_ he said, and the words broke the spell, and the water boiled, and burned my hopes and dreams where they had been on my tongue.

I ripped off my helmet, spit blood on his dusty and oil smeared white tank top and told him to never _kriffing_ call me sweetheart again. 

The weakness of our hearts hurts more than any bruise or beating. It is the earliest defence a loner has, to retaliate when someone shows you compassion. We mistake it for pity, and pity is for the weak. 

I would rather be anything than weak. 

………..

 

The redhead--Hux whirls the second he enters the room, standing so his back is to us. 

“And what is this, Ren?”

“If you value your life you will get out of this room now.” Ren--Ben, snaps. 

“We are having a team meeting now that Phasma is back. It was supposed to be in preparation for the arrival of our new recruit, but I can see that you are already acquainted.”

Every word drips with superiority, even though we are supposedly on the same team now. 

“We’ll be there.” I respond, before Ben can say anything. He still faces Hux, having unconciously moved to keep his body before mine, but his eyes flick to me with my declaration. 

“Out” Ben adds, and Hux moves faster than I thought the soft man was capable of. 

Ben turns to me. 

“You stay here, I’ll let you know what they have to say.”

“I’m going to this meeting Kylo” He blinks at the name, as if his earlier confession would change him instantly. “I am a member of this team, at least until Adea can get my contract back to Resistance Racing.”

“You’d really go back to Resistance Racing?” He asks, a shadow in the evening light obscuring his face as he sits back. 

“Why wouldn’t I? They are my family.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, I can tell by the way his body stiffens at the word, his muscles tightening and his hands clenched into fists. The Resistance may be my chosen family, but they are Ben’s actual family. I don’t know what happened to create Kylo Ren, to drive away, but I do understand the pain that comes when someone mentions parents, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. It’s something I wanted for so long, but never had, and I wonder if it is a small mercy, to never have known them. That it might be even more painful, to have had family and lost, than to have never had them at all. 

“Ben I--” It’s like all the awkwardness that we managed to avoid for the last few days comes crashing down, an invisible barrier 

“Then we will go”

…...

 

If Phasma is surprised to see me she doesn’t show it. 

We sit in a dark room, around a circular black table. The furnishings all around the base are dark and modern, all clean lines and sharp angles. It is decidedly not my taste. 

Plus the chairs are _kriffing_ uncomfortable.

I shift for the third time, and her eyes flick to me as she continues to read a list of times, appointments and expectations that is drier than the Jakku desert. 

“Is something wrong, Miss Jakkusen?” Phasma says, her deep alpha voice clearly indicating she has had enough of me. 

“Fine” I reply tersely, even though I really would kill to stand up and stretch my legs. Turns out spending 2 days laying in bed can make you antsy. Plus Kylo Ben seems to be seething, and even though I’m basically done with my heat I find that whatever is pissing him off is really ticking me off too. “Actually, how much longer will this take?”

Phasma glowers, Hux looks aghast, and although Ben’s face doesn’t so much as move a muscle from his severe frown, I swear I see a smile dancing behind his eyes. 

……

My room is nearly identical to Ben’s, but the view is of a concrete garage wall and some artificial grass. It smells like chlorine and pesticides, and the mattress feels like a rock. Ben stands in the doorway as I inspect the area, and although I’m usually happy just to have a roof over my head, I find myself turning my nose up at this place. 

“Don’t like it?” He grumbles. 

I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of agreeing, but I also don’t want to put any of my stuff here. Something deep within me recoils at the idea that I would sleep _here_ while our room is over there. 

His phone dings, the high pitched chime making me wince.

“It’s Adea, she wants to know when you can come to her office. She says she needs to go over her legal strategy before moving forward.” 

“Why did you ask Adea for help?” I ask, because it has been nagging me since we spoke this morning. “You clearly hate Resistance Racing, wouldn’t it be better if I just had to stay here?”

“I know it’s hard for you to see the First Order as anything but misogynistic corporate fanatics.” He says, eyes still trained on his phone screen, features lit from the blue light seem softer, younger. “And I’m not saying they aren’t. But you have to realize that the Resistance isn’t perfect either.”

“They’re better than this though.”

“Marginally,” he says “Tell me, would Leia have ever let you enter a race before Poe was incapacitated?” 

“No.”

“No, it wouldn’t have been in the best interest of the team.” He says, “I understand that, you understand that, but it’s different when it’s your _mother_ who is making decisions and putting the well being of her precious team before her own son.”

What if it was my mother, what if I found her and she had a whole new life, a new family--A new daughter, or son? 

“Leia loves you Ben,” I say, my voice dropping to a whisper over his name, so close to the psuedonym he had adopted. “She may not be the best, but she was always hoping to make a family, to carve out a space where teamwork and happiness could exist within the world of racing.”

“Leia has always chosen her family, she has never understood that some of us can’t help what we are, can’t find a new family in some passion project. Leia has only ever loved in bits and pieces, look at Han and Luke.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Why did you bring Adea into this?”

“There was a time when all I wanted was to leave my past behind, to start fresh and forget about my family, the Resistance. That’s what I did, and I made some mistakes, but I chose to make them.” All of a sudden I’m concerned that he isn’t talking about racing contracts, but someone else entirely. “Everyone deserves that choice, you deserve that choice.”

“What if I want to stay with you?” I say, my voice a little small. 

“Don’t stay here for me, don’t do anything for anyone but yourself Rey.” He tilts my chin up, and I feel a drop escape from my traitorous eyes, even as they well with the effort of holding back the tide. 

He kisses the wet streak, his lips coming away with the slight sparkle of salty skin. He tucks me under his chin, and I feel calmer this close, with his warmth enveloping me, even in the cool darkness of the room. 

 

…..

I don’t see Ben for weeks. 

The day after I unpacked my things in his room I am once again whisked away to a training camp, something about how higher elevation will increase my endurance. The only saving grace is that Hux and Phasma are back at the First Order’s headquarters, and it’s just me and the road and 6 hours with a personal trainer everyday.

At the end of the first day I pull out my phone, ready to call Kylo-Ben and talk. 

No texts. 

I open the phone, preparing to dial and then stop. 

I didn’t even get his number. 

I could go to the Pit Crew, or call the headquarters, or reach out some other way, but I don’t. I put the phone away, and crawl into the pristine hotel bed, which smells good and also horrible, because it doesn’t smell like him, so it doesn’t smell like us. 

I sleep, and do not dream again. 

…

A week of checking my phone morning and night, and I’m told I’ll be returning to headquarters. I squirm the entire flight home, unsure whether I’ll scream or cry or kick Kylo/Ben/Ghosts-After-sharing-Heat-and-secret-identity Ren when I see him. When I burst into our room I am first by a wave of emptiness. I could almost smell him, my memory supplying his snow-on-pine scent, as I ran through the halls, but now that I’m hear there is only a faintly familiar Myrr and Rose lingering in the air. 

The room is empty. 

The bright white linens are gone, and the papers covering the desk. The space is devoid of even the barest spec of dust, as if it had been wiped clean just minutes before I walked in.

A file sits on the Bed.

I sit down and flip through it, then close it gently, carefully laying it out where He had once thrown his papers and refuse, a space that seems much bigger now that it is devoid of clutter.  
I crawl into the bed, and let a few tears drop down my face. 

I stay like this a few minutes, and then take out the phone, the one that still shows up with a blank screen, the phone that’s desert dune background has taunted my face for the past week. 

There is no one here to see this weakness, no one here to witness my unraveling, the way the sobs choke up my throat, and even when I press my face into my knees, I can’t stop the shaking. 

 

I dial the number, my heart racing. It rings and rings and rings, and no one answers. I hang up, and press my face into the bare mattress, and let the tears run down my face. 

I have never felt so alone.  
……

“Hello?”

…..

The next two months pass in a blur, and my pain fades into a comfortable numbness. It is like coming back to an old friend, to let go of that feeling and live a blessedly empty life. The First Order doesn’t allow much time for sadness, or even thinking really. With Ren off their roster Hux spends the majority of his time managing me. I wake up, drive, eat, train, drive, meet with the team, then repeat. Sometimes I have photoshoots, where I stand next to Black and White cars from the First Order while a photograph asks me to flash my pretty _Omega_ smile, or I have an interview where the questions require only yes or no answers. Every moment of my day is scheduled and measured, from how many minutes I spend on the treadmill to the exact number of carbs I am allotted to the various supplements and nutrients they dispense along with my suppressant. I am as well tuned as the cars in their garages, and treated with all the careful polish and respect those vehicles receive, and nothing more.

 

I don’t think about the Resistance, or Ben, or the Omega protests that are still in the streets, or the Races I will be expected to be in. My only retaliation is the occasional texts I exchange with Adea, when I ask her how the work on my contract is going. 

**Adea:** Unfortunately it’s pretty airtight.

 **Adea:** Needs to be a change in conditions. 

**Adea:** Let me know if anything happens though. 

Two weeks before my big race something changes. Phasma gets into a huff, and screams at me after a practice race. I recoil, and to my own horror find that I’m shaking. 

“Is she going into rut?” I ask to no one in particular. The pit crew doesn’t talk to me. 

But Hux is there, as always. 

“No, but you’re going into Heat, so she is probably a little agitated..”

“Excuse me?” I say, a spike of fear breaking through my shell of unfeeling. “I am not going into Heat for another few months.”

“No, that’s right before the season. You will have your heat ahead of time, so that your body is in peak condition for racing.”

“No I will not.”

He shrugs. “We’ll see.”

Once I am safely in Ben’s room, which I suppose is now my room since he is long gone, I call Adea. 

“They what?” She practically spits, and I can already here her typing on a laptop, her fingers playing a symphony across the keyboard. 

“Well, is it illegal?”

“I mean yeah, although those contracts do have stipulations about medical attention. They definitely don’t have control over your reproductive rights.” 

“So that’s it, I can leave?” 

“Not exactly, we would have to take this to court, which could take months.” 

“I can’t go into heat now Adea, I barely managed last time and I had Kylo” It’s the first time I’ve said his name aloud in months, and it feels like a confession and a prayer. “They can’t do this to me!”

“Rey, there is no way we can get to them on this before you go into a heat. Have they already messed with your suppresants?” 

“Hux said I was going into heat, and I do feel a little odd.”

“Do you have a vehicle there, and do you think you can drive?”

“Driving is my job Adea, I’ll be fine.”

……

The Falcon is covered in a fine layer of dust, still sitting in the same parking spot I left it in. I get worried that the Hyper brand battery died, but with a few turns the engine sputters to life, and I think it sounds like an old friend. I missed the feeling of a real steering wheel, and the comfortably worn seatbelt, and the empty seat beside me. It’s the longest I’ve gone without driving a street car, and I suddenly regret all those days where all I did was follow the path the gave me. 

I wonder if this is how Ben felt, when he left. 

I stop that thought where it is. Adea had left me a file containing Ben’s termination of contract, he was outside of his initial option period, so he could leave anytime he wanted. And he did leave, just like that.

We meet at a gas station called Buccee’s, she said I wouldn’t miss it and she was right. It’s huge, and in exactly the middle of nowhere, which makes it all the more strange. 

I pull up and Adea is sipping on an enormous soda, wearing stiletto’s and a pencil dress and looking just as comfortable among the dozens of gas pumps as she would in a sleek courtroom. 

“Glad you finally made it,” She pushes a pill into my hand, and I recognize the emergency suppresant pill I took when I was hiding my distinction. “That should do the trick, and I brought some friends.”

She nods toward the doors, where two girls are coming out with snacks of their own. One looks vaguely familiar, although it takes me a minute to place her. 

“You’re that Omega girl from the hospital” I say, and they both glance at each other. 

“Yeah, I’m Rose. This is my sister Paige, she is the real reason we are here.”

Paige is taller than rose, but they both have the same look, like even the darkest of days couldn’t keep the sun from their smiles. 

“I have a podcast,”

“Ok,” I say, looking around and feeling very clueless.

“Paige is an Omega rights Lawyer.” Rose supplements. “A good one.”

“And I want you to tell me everything about the First Order.”

…..

The interview is awkward, I haven’t had anyone to talk with in so long, I’ve spent so much time with all my emotions packed tight that I come out like a shell, and I wonder if it will be enough. 

Paige and Rose pat my hand and say it will be OK. Adea and Paige look over the transcript, discussing all that I had revealed, strategizing how they will present it to the First Order when they present their terms. I told them all I wanted was to be free of my contract, and both of them shook their heads. 

“You have a non-compete, we need to get that taken care of.”

“Otherwise you won’t be able to race.” Adea supplements. “And of course there will be a settlement if you sign an NDA.”

“No” I respond. “People need to know what happens at companies like that. Trying to manage my heats was one thing, they discriminate against Omegas at all levels. I won’t stay silent about that.”

The smile that beams from Rose’s face is like watching the sun rise, blinding and beautiful all at once. 

“Thanks Rey, I knew you would come around.” 

“I think sometimes it just takes time.” I reply, and a little happiness, the first I’ve felt since Ben left claws its way back into my heart. 

 

…..

 

Sometimes the best way to grow is to be alone. 

I pack up my bags and use a substantial amount of my remaining funds from my time with The First Order to buy a first class ticket to one of the small islands in the south Cantonica sea. I rent a villa near the town, with a view that faces the foliage covered green mountains instead of the sea. I try to read the bestselling _Bad Omega_ by the the famous Omega Rights activist Amilyn Holdo, which came highly recommended by Rose Paige and Adea. I can’t get through the first 50 pages though, and end up devouring the dog eared copies of Sinjir Rath Velus’s mystery thriller series that some other vacationer had left behind. 

When I guess the twist ending to the eighth Velus book I decide to check out the town, and end up wandering into a dive shop. I sign up for a certification class on a whim, and after a few days of playing bubble games in the bottom of an over-chlorinated pool we take a boat out to the reef, and I find that there is a whole new world beneath the surface. Schools of fish, beautiful corals that branch and sway with the waves, and gently swimming turtles that seem to fly through the water like angels create an entire underwater city teeming with life. 

After a few days of me asking about every single fish and crustacean we see the dive shop owner asks about my accent, and I deflect the question, asking about his own. He sounds muddled, like all the accents we here on the circuit crushed into one. He says his name is Jar-Jar, that he grew up speaking Papamiento.

We become friendly enough for him to invite me on the staff night dive and we take their boat-which sorely needs a new coat of paint-to a grotto on the far side of the island. The sun is close to setting when we drop into the bathtub warm water, red tank lights blinking like a school of bioluminescent fish as we descend. The coral’s colors are muted beneath the dying light, and within minutes we are surrounded by the sworling points, fins, and tips of more than a dozen reef sharks. 

I expected to be terrified, but instead I find that the sharks almost act like dogs, pushing against our legs and resting lazily in the sand. I wonder if this is the only way to understand the world’s we don’t belong to, if experiencing each others lives can only happen by submerging ourselves in them. 

I can’t sleep when I return to my villa, still high and adrenaline filled with the night ocean on my skin. I decide to call Adea, but when I pull out my phone it’s not the sand filled background I expect to see, it’s a message I had been avoiding for months, one I don’t know how I’ll respond to. 

**Poe:** We need to talk.


	12. Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time jump. 
> 
> penultimate chapter

4 years later

**Breakfast of Champions, we interview driver, activist,  
Galaxy Circuit’s newest team owner, Rey Jakkusen ** and Excerpt from _Alderaan Daily Times Magazine_ by Hera Syndula

You may know Rey Jakkusen from her consecutive cup titles for Resistance Racing or her speeches at Omega Rights rallies, but the woman who burst onto the scene under the careful tutelage of Leia Organa has new endeavors in mind. She recently left her alma mater team after the retirement of manager Organa and her husband, former champion Han Solo of Rebellion Racing Teams. We sat down with the racing’s newest team owner after a recent board meeting to discuss her new team. 

The spitfire racer recalled her journey into one of the world’s most exclusive sports. We all know the story of her first two races, but who is the Omega behind the wheel? When asked about her rise to fame Jakkusen said she “just wanted to drive.”

She may be a woman of few words, but she has more than enough accomplishments to make up for it. After the landmark case of employee rights against Richard Snoke, the Circuit’s former chairman and owner of the now defunct First Order racing teams, Jakkusen stormed onto the scene. Now with two titles under her belt, she is putting her tracksuits in the garage in favor of starting her own team. 

“When Leia left, I just knew it was time.” The 25 year old said over tea in the half constructed garage near Takodana, where her team will be based. Her style has matured from her days of being photographed in her signature dusty beige athleisure outside of races. Though still athletic from her mechanical work, she favored black and grey tailored pieces, the cooler palette highlighting her eyecolor. The mature look suits her, and may be a nod to her knew team name. _Grey Jedi_ racing will hit the circuit this fall, with Jakkusen at its helm as owner and General Manager. “I walked into a board meeting, and there was just a wall of men there. Leia has done so much for us, she was one of the first women to break out in the industry. I owed so much to her, it was only natural for me to do the same.” 

Although there was uproar when Jakkusen decided to hang up her tracksuit after her last championship, she hinted that this may not be the end of her racing days. “What can I say? I’m still young. That first race in Coruscant was the first time I think I ever felt really alive, you know? But unless we make inroads for other Omegas--and for more women in general, of all distinctions--I’ll be the only woman who ever stands on that podium. That’s not enough, kids need to see Alpha, Beta, and Omega women winning.”

 

Jakkusen seems to have changed completely from the young girl who caused a scandal just a few short years ago, but she assures us she really is the same. “I’m still the same person, I just get recognized a little more often. I still talk to Poe everyday, we all got together at Finn’s wedding last month. Leaving that team was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, they’re the reason I’m in racing now, the foundation of my success. That’s the thing about families though, sometimes we grow different ways, but we are still together at the end of the day. We broke the First Orders reign of terror, now it’s time to rebuild. It can’t just be dark and light, one team or another. There has to be something new, something that’s a little bit of both.” 

Jakkusen was up to date on all her former team members former successes, and even some Rivals. Phasma, former First Order driver will join Grey Jedi as a driver in the upcoming season. “This team is about women, of all distinctions including Alpha.” The GM said. 

When asked about the First Order’s other former Alpha drivers she was not as positive. 

“I haven’t spoken to [Kylo Ren] in 4 years. If you want information on him I suggest you track him down yourselves.” 

…..

“Can you believe that?” I say, shoving the sleek magazine onto the workbench with a _slap_. “It’s like the entire interview didn’t even matter. I spend an entire day with that reporter and her final line is one about him?”

“You need to put on your game face” Ahsoka, the new driver I’ve hired says from her perch beneath K - 2SO, our new racer. We are crammed into one of the bays at the Dantooine track, and Ahsoka is running a few last minute changes before the race in the morning. “Isn’t Han stopping by today?”

“It’s not like Han would read this garbage, it’s Leia I need to worry about.” 

“Why do you need to worry about my wife?” Han says as he strolls in, Chewie beside him as always. I’m happy that he and Leia have reconnected after their estrangement, but I’ve felt a distance from him since my time with the First Order. There is too much Ben in him, the kind of mannerisms that can’t be unseen, like a picture you have to unfocus your eyes to find. They both have that easy stride, the half crooked grin that melts into a desperate glare when their eyebrows knit together. And of course, there is the driving. 

Watching Han take a racer out is like watching Ben, and I wonder how it’s possible that the facade of Kylo Ren ever survived. Surely anyone who had watched racing would be able to see the way they both take turns just late enough to be dangerous, how they both prefer the outside position even when they could slip to the inside of a corner. 

“Don’t worry about it Han.” I say, even though I am definitely, very, worried about it. No I tell myself you are worried Ben is going to see this. 

“Are you girls ready for the race?”

Ahsoka shrugs. I’ve never met someone who can be so relaxed, and then turn into a lightning rod of energy at a moments notice. It took some convincing to get her behind the wheel, but her personality is one that lets her excel at racing. 

“I am ready as I am in all things.” She says, “I do need sleep though. I’ll see you in the morning, Master”

“Goodnight,” I don’t really like the whole Master deal she has going on, I know she apprenticed with Luke at some point.

“So how is the field looking kid?” Han asks, I know he still feels some of the awkwardness between us. I’m not sure how much Leia and Han have deduced happened between their son and I, but they understand that something has changed, shifted. 

“The usual suspects, Poe and Finn are always formidable, and the Mandalorians were having good qualifying times. It’s a new season, so we will see.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Like a caged hawk misses the sky.” I reply, busying myself with organizing the toolkit Ahsoka left out. “But it never felt the same. I guess I was always chasing that feeling I had the first time I had behind the wheel.”

Han quiets for a moment, and we sit in a companionable silence. Leia was always the one for words, her presence couldn’t help but be acknowledged. Han is more of a feeling, the sly step you take when sneaking up on an old friend, the jolt of satisfaction at having gotten away with something. He is a person who doesn’t need words to communicate at all. 

“What about that new team?”

“We are the new team Han.” 

“No the other one, _Scavenger_ ” I look to him at that, the team barely had the funds to get in, and with only one driver it seems unusual that the team is even trying at all. They haven’t attended any of the circuits functions, or picked up any sponsors. 

“I’m sure Ahsoka and Phasma will be fine. Winning would be great for a inaugural year, but these first few races are just about working out some kinks. If we manage to get some points I’ll be happy.” 

“Kid, I didn’t think I would ever hear you say it wasn’t about winning.” He pauses, before dropping something on the hood of K-2SO. Then he walks away. 

Before he disappears out the garage door into the cool night he turns and says “Don’t think I didn’t see that your name was listed as a team member instead of owner.” 

 

……

The owner’s box is a strange place. 

Gone are the days when this was filled with First Order and it’s mass of subsidiary companies. Now there is a wide range of types, from the severely uniformed Mandalorian owners to the barefoot and slightly ochre smelling Ewok team. I find a seat away from the viewing windows, trying to be discreet. Adea dressed me in simple black trousers and a grey sweater, close enough to the team’s colors to be appropriate for photos, but not so overtly patriotic as to be easily identifiable. 

Adea came on as my main legal counsel when I started Grey Jedi. She navigated the mess that was corporate ownership, and when she realized I had no skills in the marketing department took that upon herself as well. Now I’m lucky I can go anywhere without her adjusting me to fit the team ‘image’. She still hasn’t arrived, probably dealing with press down in their booth. It’s a strange feeling, to watch a race after having spent so long in the trenches. 

The race goes faster when I’m driving. 

The hour and a half seems to drag forever, and I find my attention can’t even seem to stay on our drivers. Ahsoka and Phasma drive well, but my eyes keep tracing a small white racer, the Scavenger logo looking like a lone tree in the desert without corporate sponsors surrounding it. There is something about each turn, about the ebb and flow of the drivers race that calls to me. 

When the race ends I linger in the box, Phasma placed third, with Ahsoka coming in two spots behind. They’ll both get points, but I don’t want to head to the pit yet. I know as soon as I arrive the story will turn to me, instead of the drivers who just won. I wouldn’t want to overshadow their hard work. 

Scavenger managed to come in second, a surprising upset. I watch the driver accept his medal, but he doesn’t remove his helmet. It’s become a sort of trend after the disappearance of Kylo Ren, for drivers to avoid showing their faces. I’m just about to head down to the garage to meet for our post-race recap when sandy grey shot hair catches my eye. 

Han is there. 

The driver reaches out, clasping Han’s hand in his own before pulling him into a one armed hug. Han smiles, and says something the footage doesn’t quite pick up, then Leia is behind him, her eyes covered in a smile so big I almost don’t recognize her. 

Then she reaches up, and kisses the drivers helmet. 

I drop my glass. 

_Solo, Ben Solo is here._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the hiatus!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are the gas that fuels this car. More comments, more updates! 
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


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